


Part One: Introductions

by evil_whimsey, PandoraCulpa



Series: The Adventures of Arai and Roy [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types, Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis, xxxHoLic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Friends to Brothers, Gen, Great Depression, Multiverse crossover, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-24 23:48:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 48,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22326460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evil_whimsey/pseuds/evil_whimsey, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandoraCulpa/pseuds/PandoraCulpa
Summary: Arai and Roy have been homeless drifters with the bleakest of prospects, doing their best to look out for each other on a long hard road, during tough times.  One day, making their way through yet another strange town, they come across a bakery....
Series: The Adventures of Arai and Roy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607860
Comments: 1
Collections: wtf_hollow presents: Adventures





	1. Chapter 1

Adventures  
A Collaborative Multifandom Crossover AU Story  
by pandora and whimsey

Part One

Arai tugged the brim of his cap down lower, slouching his shoulders and letting his head drop in hopes of avoiding the attention of the cop twirling his baton on the corner, while Roy slunk along behind him, humming with concern. 

**

He tried to ignore the growling of his stomach, and instead concentrate on looking like he was headed somewhere with a purpose. Because that was the trick to avoiding beat cops, he'd learned. Don't look lost, don't loiter, but don't look too worried about where you're going, either.

This was a big challenge, since he mostly didn't know where he was or where he was headed. A place he and Roy could stay the night. Their next meal. A friendly driver willing to let them hitch a ride; none of these things had a particular destination. He just had to look around until he found them.

For whatever reason, beat cops and truant officers frowned on that, though.

He chanced a look up at the storefront window to his right, checking the reflection to make sure Roy was keeping close by, and acting reasonably inconspicuous. Arai had really been trying to teach him how to stay under people's notice. And Roy tried really hard to do it, whenever he could remember to.

But Roy forgot things a lot, he lost track of what was going on sometimes. Especially in busy places, with lots of people and cars and noise. He knew it was important to stay cool, try to act nonchalant about things, he just...forgot sometimes.

So Arai had to look out for him.

**

The smell of fresh baked bread hit him like a brick to the gut; his stomach rumbled until his ribs ached, and Arai bit his lower lip, hard. When was the last time they'd eaten? Yesterday? Before that? The doorway to the bakery lay before him, a gauntlet he had to run to get them away from the cop's scrutiny. Squaring his jaw (and clenching it tightly shut), he strode past the invitingly open door with the grim, determined strides of a man marching to his own execution.

All too quickly, he became aware that the presence at his back had disappeared.

Daring a quick glance over his shoulder, he saw Roy, completely transfixed by the aroma. The older man's head was up, nostrils flaring, and his dark eyes were glassy with hunger. Arai's heart sunk at that look; Roy was amenable to his suggestions most of the time, but after going more than a day without a meal the lure of food was a temptation that Arai was no match for.

Still, he'd promised to look out for the peculiar fellow, and the cop, eying a fruit vendor further down the street, hadn't noticed them yet. Sidling back over to Roy, Arai surreptitiously tugged at his sleeve.

"C'mon," he whispered, hoping to somehow break through the singleminded gaze Roy was focusing on the doorway. "We don't have any money. They won't give us anything without that. And there's a policeman. We have to keep mo-"

Beside him Roy shifted, growling softly, and when a heavy hand clapped him on the shoulder, Arai nearly yelped with surprise.

***

"Hey Lucky, where the hell you been? We was waitin' here an hour already."

Arai turned, to face the total stranger who'd just addressed him. Tall, spiky dark hair, and lean muscled arms under his white T-shirt. Grinning at him.

"Uh, sorry," he stammered, just about to tell the guy he must be mistaken. But he chanced to notice the cop perking up down the pavement, and Roy was tugging back from the stranger, tensing, and all Arai could really think was, Oh shit...

"C'mon man, truck's waitin' in the alley. Ain't got all day.". The strange grinning guy clapped him on the back, and Arai, figuring he was stuck either way, let himself be led off toward the bakery door.

At first Roy balked, but seeing they were headed toward that delicious, tantalizing smell, fell into line quietly.

Once they were inside, the guy called out, "Hey Fuji, I got us some help," before dropping a quick wink at Arai. "Hope I didn't spoil your plans for the morning, kid. But looked to me like Officer O'Malley was gonna spoil em worse. He'll clear off for the coffee shop in about an hour or so. I figured in the meantime, you look like you could use a bite to eat, huh?"

"Oh, um." The tantalizing aroma of fresh hot bread, surrounding them, was demolishing Arai's ability to think, much less keep up with the sudden turn in their fortunes. "That would be swell--I mean, we don't mind workin' for it, sir. We didn't come by for a handout or anything."

"Who the heck you callin' sir?" The tall guy laughed. "That's what folks call my Pop. You just call me Momo, awright kid? And the guy inna back, he's called Fuji, like them apples. Hey, Fuji," he hollered, "You comin out sometime before Christmas or what?" 

***

"Tch, Momo, you're so noisy!"

Both Arai and Roy turned to look behind the counter, where the new voice originated. An off-white curtain hung in the doorway between the kitchen and the counter, and it was pushed aside to reveal a man with light brown hair and an easy smile that was altogether too knowing. There was a dusting of flour on his apron, and a smudge across his cheek as well, and as he entered the room the smell of bread wafted heavier after him.

At Arai's elbow, Roy made an eager, pleading noise.

Fuji cocked his head, studying the two of them through eyes that barely seemed to be open. "What have we here?" He sounded pleased to see them, almost as though he'd been expecting their company. "Momo's brought in some more strays, ne?"

"I'll work, sir," Arai offered quickly, afraid they'd lose the opportunity to earn something to eat. "Me and Roy, we're both willing..."

"Sit." Fuji nodded at a small table near the back of the store, and Arai grabbed Roy's arm, pulling him along after him. Roy whined as they moved away from the source of the smells, but though his eyes never ceased scanning the counters and the kitchen door, he followed along without protest and Arai breathed a sigh of relief.

Several times they'd been faced with the prospects of work or a meal, and Roy's peculiar behavior had caused them to be turned away. It was always a gamble, but although Arai knew on the one hand that he'd have more luck without his companion, he wouldn't abandon his companion. The larger man had protected him on more than one occasion, and although he could be fierce, there was an innate innocence to the older man's character that Arai could relate to.

They were two of a kind, him and Roy, adrift in a world far more cynical and hard than either of them quite knew how to deal with. 

But here was Fuji, smiling through those closed eyes, and bearing a tray covered with bowls of soup and thick crusts of bread over to their table. And Momo, dragging a chair out and turning it around so that he could straddle it backwards, chin resting against his crossed arms on the chair back, and grinning at them with honest friendliness. Even Roy was smiling, hesitant and still slightly fearful, but his body language was relaxed.

And Arai thought, for the first time in longer than he could remember, that maybe it might be nice to stay in one place for a little while.

**

"So that's Roy," said Momo, making a little gesture with his elbow. "How 'bout you, Lucky, you got a name?"

"Oh gosh, sorry!". Suddenly reminded of his manners, Arai jumped up from the seat he'd just barely taken, and tugged his cap off. "I'm Arai, pleased to meet you."

"Siddown, jeez," Momo laughed. "This ain't charm school or nothin'. Take a load off, kid." But he accepted the hand Arai held out to shake, as did Fuji, who put in softly, "Delighted to make your acquaintance, Arai. Please do sit and enjoy the food."

There was a beat, when Arai sat, where he realized both men were looking half-expectantly at Roy, who only had eyes for the food in front of him.

"Psst.". He nudged Roy's ankle gently under the table. "What do you say?"  
Roy gave a little huff, and a tiny frown at the bowl in front of him. 

"Thanks. For....help," he said, in his halting, rusty voice. "Thanks for--." He knit his brow in concentration, and then turned a questioning look to Arai. "Soup?"

"Yeah, good. Soup. That's real good.". Arai smiled and patted Roy on the shoulder, and Roy relaxed another fraction, and nodded, and then picked up his bowl, and began to sip straight from it.

Arai was so distracted by his praise of Roy (he always encouraged Roy, when he remembered the right words and phrases, knowing it was hard work for the man sometimes), that he missed the curious pitying looks that Momo and Fuji exchanged across the table. When he glanced up to give a nervous little apology for Roy's table manners, both men were looking nonchalantly elsewhere.

So instead of apologizing, he picked up his spoon, and started to eat, trying hard not to wolf it down as fast as he could. At least Roy was being careful not to make a mess this time.

Momo and Fuji were nice enough to wait until Arai finished his soup, and moved on to the bread, before starting with the questions.

"So, you guys new in the neighborhood, or just passin through?" Momo began casually.

Arai took an extra second chewing and swallowing his bread, making sure he had The Story all straight in his head before talking.

He'd been working on The Story for awhile now, and it had different versions, depending on the situation he and Roy were in at the time. At first, he'd been really bad at telling it, because he really didn't like fibbing to people, especially when they were nice enough to help him. But holding things back caused trouble, because it made folks suspicious. And the whole truth, if he told that would cause loads more trouble. Plus, he doubted anybody would believe him.

So instead of truth or lies, he just thought of it as a story. Most people liked to hear stories, so he was just giving them something they could enjoy. Like the picture show, or or the dime novels at the drug store.

***

Arai bit his lower lip. "Well, I guess you could say we're passing through. I'm trying to catch up with my dad and my uncle" he said matter of factly, because the first lesson he'd learned the hard way was to never let on that he might be orphaned or homeless, Never so much as hint that someone wasn't waiting for him. 

"But it's hard to find them," he went on, falling into the storytelling with the ease of practice. "They move around a lot." Common enough, in these days when little work was to be found, and men traveled far and wide to support their families.

Or abandoned them. Which wasn't at all unusual, though it was a sensitive enough subject that few had the ill grace to probe the matter further.

"I met Roy out east. He needed someone to travel with," and Arai grinned affectionately at the other man, who smirked back, mouth full of bread, "and I was kind of lonely by then."

Never bother to mention that when he met Roy, the poor man had been beaten badly and hiding in an alley, on account, he supposed, of his being so... different. Never let on that Roy could sense things he shouldn't be able to, that he displayed an animal-like devotion to his friend, and that he needed someone like that around, needed that kind of barometer, to keep from being hurt like before. He was altogether too trusting of people, whereas Roy was wary and cautious, but between the two of them they could just about cope.

"We thought we'd maybe head south from here, maybe find some fieldwork along the way, and hope to catch up with my family by summer." Always, there was the suggestion that they'd be leaving soon. That they weren't worth paying attention to, that they were just normal transient workers, nothing to be threatened by and no one worth getting close to.

Before he could move on to his preferred part of The Story, the past he'd invented and lovingly embellished, hints of a better life, and all the things people wanted to hear in a good story, Roy gave a loud sigh of bleak resignation and stared down at his empty plate with a mournful expression. Lifting his head again, he gave Arai a dark-eyed look of entreaty. "More?" he murmured, then flinched as Momo burst out in great gusts of laughter. 

"Ain't that right to the point!" he chortled, and Fuji shoved the larger man's shoulder. Still chuckling to himself, Momo rose from his chair and ambled back over to the counter.

Roy's head was still ducked, his face rueful. Despite the presumption, Arai couldn't really find it in him to be angry; on Roy's scale, the comment had shown considerable restraint. And if he was fair, he'd admit that he was thinking the same thing. The soup had disappeared far too quickly, and he didn't even remember eating his bread, but asking for more from their benefactors couldn't be anything but rude...

Fuji's hand on his arm surprised Arai. "Ne, it's all right," the other man said quietly, seeming to read his thoughts. "It's plain you and your friend have had some hard travels. Eat your fill and don't worry." Fuji's smile turned humorous once more, and he added, "We can settle our debts later, if it makes you feel better."

**

Arai nodded, not really knowing what else to say. In his and Roy's position, it was a bad idea to let people get you further into debt than you could pay. He'd learned that the hard way before, because some folks would trick others into their debt on purpose, and it was better to steer clear of people like that. Better to go hungry or do without, than take help from people who offered too much, and wanted lots more in return.

But these guys didn't seem to be that type. Arai would be hard pressed to find a name for that type, but he'd learned to spot them okay. They were like the guys at the carnival, who sold patent medicines from their wagon, or the ones who ran the shell game.  
The ones who sized you up as soon as they saw you, and talked too fast and too smooth, and the next thing you knew, you were agreeing to stuff you didn't really want to do, and you were stuck with them.

Fuji and Momo weren't like that. Arai could tell that much. But then he realized he'd been talking all about him and Roy, and didn't know anything about the guys feeding them.

"It's sure a nice shop you got here," he mentioned, noting the clean floors and tidy shelves. "Do you and uh, Momo own it together?"  
"You could say we look after it," said Fuji, with a funny little smile. "The owner always wanted to have a bakery, but he doesn't know much about running one. Momo and I do all the baking and deliveries, and the owner makes sure we have everything we need."

This worried Arai some. "You guys won't get in trouble, will you? For helping us out?" He'd run into that before. Places where the working guys wanted to help them, but the bosses wanted no part of them.

But Fuji only smiled serenely, as Momo came out with extra helpings of food, chuckling at what he'd overheard.  
"Trouble? Not hardly. Mr. Haninozuka would give away everything in this joint, if we didn't stop him. If he was here, he'd be stuffing you two fulla cake. It's his favorite thing in the world."

At that, Fuji suddenly blinked, revealing a flash of impossibly blue eyes. "Tch, the cake! I forgot all about it." He rose hurriedly, brushing down his apron, saying, "I beg your pardon, please enjoy your food....," before rushing off for the oven.


	2. Chapter 2

"Well now," said Momo, once they were done eating. "You two ever work in a bakery?"  
"I've worked in stores. And diners," Arai offered. "And Roy is pretty strong. He can do any lifting you need."

Roy hmmed agreeably at his side, looking content now that he had some food in him.

"Perfect," nodded Momo. "We'll start off in the stock room, and then see about loading up the delivery truck. I don't suppose either of you can drive?" he added, speculatively.

"Shame, Momo," called Fuji from the next room. "You know they aren't covered on our auto policy."

Momo grinned and shrugged, looking not at all shamed. "Eh, it was worth a shot."

"It's okay, I can't really drive, anyway." He didn't figure tractors counted. Or that one time in the middle of the night when the fella who picked them up was entirely too drunk to drive his own truck. Arai had gotten them down the road in one piece, thankfully, but it was a hair-raising ordeal, involving way too much swerving and gear grinding.

Roy had been watching the conversation attentively, putting together things as he could understand them. With a little tug on Arai's sleeve, he said, "Sweep?"

"Yeah, sure. Roy sweeps real good, too," Arai told Momo, who grinned at Roy.  
"That so? Then you got a job for sure, buddy. We gotta sweep all day long, to keep this place clean. Otherwise you get all the rats and bugs comin in, and damn if Fuji don't hate the sight of them." 

So that was how they spent half the day. Momo found Roy a broom, and he set to meticulously sweeping all the floor he could find, while Arai and Momo sorted out the stocks of flour and sugar, and all the bakery's ingredients. 

Everything they sold, Momo explained proudly, was done from scratch. Fuji was a genius cook, who could've worked in the finest restaurants or hotels in town if he wanted. But he and Momo both liked working for Mr. Haninozuka, because the man loved good food and cakes and pastries, and didn't care about profits so much, as making people happy with his shop. 

Arai said that sure was a swell deal, and how lucky that Momo and Fuji could have a boss like that.  
"You sure got that right," Momo nodded emphatically. "Mr. Haninozuka, I guess he's got more than enough to get by on. Market crash didn't hurt him none at all. If he wanted, he could just stay in one of his big houses and to heck with the rest of us poor bastards, y'know? But did he do that? Nosiree. He looks out for folks. High class, low class, doesn't matter none to him. If he decides you're okay, then he'll help you out."

Arai imagined the owner must be a very dignified, kindly gentleman, from the way Momo talked. Like Santa Claus, maybe. But refined, like the rich folks he saw in the papers and newsreels, when he was lucky enough to sneak into the picture show.

"Does he ever come here? he asked.  
"Sure, he comes by plenty, when he ain't busy. That's his cake, Fuji is finishing up. Every day Fuji bakes him a cake, and sometimes he'll have it here, or else somebody comes pick it up for him. But no matter what, every afternoon, he gets his cake."

***

By the end of the day, Arai was pleasantly tired from working. Honest labor, he reflected, created a different kind of tired, far better than the bone-deep exhaustion of travel, or the lassitude of waiting. He stretched, feeling his muscles burn ever so slightly, and smiled at Roy, leaning against the doorframe and watching him with attentive eyes.

"Good?" the other man queried, and Arai nodded at him.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Today was good."

Fuji appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel and Arai sketched out a quick bow in his direction. "Thank you very much for helping us today," he said. "Roy and I, we really appreciate it."

Fuji smiled, waving off the gratitude. "I told you, it's our pleasure. And you two provided fair work for your food today. The storeroom hasn't been so tidy in months."

"Sweep," Roy declared with pride, but Arai laid a quieting hand on his arm.

"I don't just mean that, sir," he admitted. "That policeman would probably have run us in if not for Momo." They'd been picked up before, and it was never a pleasant experience. At best, they'd have been driven to the edge of town and sent off with a warning, and at worst... "And if you hadn't said we could stay and help for the day... well... thank you. It saved us a heap of trouble."

Arms crossed, Fuji eyed him with that imperturbable serenity he seemed to emanate. "Just Fuji, please," he said with a hint of humor in his voice. "And the two of you really were helpful. It's a shame you're only passing through town. A couple extra pairs of hands are always a blessing this time of year, with the holidays coming up..." He let his words trail out, dangling the hint unspoken between them, and Arai sucked in a breath.

They had a reason to keep moving. But staying in one place... it was tempting. If only because they'd been traveling so long now, and while Roy was loyal and affectionate, he wasn't exactly good for conversation. Being with Momo all afternoon, whose friendly chatter never seemed to cease, had reminded Arai of what it was like to belong somewhere. And neither of the bakers had treated them like strangers or thieves (the usual reception they encountered), making them feel welcome by the simple expedient of treating them almost as equals. It was weird, and nice, and Arai was surprised to realize that he really wanted to stay on here, for a while at least.

"I..." he began, but a car horn from the front of the shop cut him off, causing Roy to bolt back to the storeroom, and Fuji abruptly wheeled around toward the kitchen.

"That's the Boss!" Momo said, grinning broadly at Arai's obvious dismay as he rose from the chair where he'd been lounging. "Nah, don't get worried. Told ya, he's a softie. Betcha end up filled with cake and tea before he's done."

Despite Momo's assurance, Arai couldn't help the flutter of anxiety deep in his stomach. "Maybe I should go take care of Roy," he suggested, but Momo shook his head, and Fuji, reappearing from the kitchen with a large chocolate cake studded with strawberries, echoed the sentiment.

"Stay, please. Mr. Haninozuka will surely want to thank you personally for your hard work today. Maybe we can coax Roy to come back out with a treat, yes?" He paused, tilting his head to the side. "And you will consider the offer, won't you?" One bright blue eye opened to wink slyly at him, and Arai decided that maybe nice guys could be tricky, too, because even with a choice, he and Roy were pretty well caught now.

*****


	3. Chapter 3

Mr. Haninozuka was not at all the distinguished older man Arai had been picturing. In fact, if it hadn't been for Momo and Fuji's warm greetings, Arai would've guessed the sunny young boy bounding into the storefront for a grandson, or nephew maybe.

He was smaller than Arai by a foot at least, with wide brown eyes, and a bright, happy laugh, as he greeted his workers like best friends, or family.  
"Fuji, Momo, it smells so good here today! I'm sorry I didn't come yesterday, but Takashi brought the cherry pie, and oh--it was so delicious!"

Bending down to accept a hug from his boss, Fuji smiled broadly. "We're happy you enjoyed it, as always, Mr. Haninozuka. Will you have time to enjoy today's cake with us, or shall I box it for you to take?"

"Ah, today I have time. I made sure to move the club meeting to this evening, so I could visit here first. I remember Fuji wanted to tell me his new ideas, neh?" He gave Momo a quick hug too, just as Fuji nodded.

"Mr. Haninozuka is very kind to remember. Shall I set out a tea service, then?"

"If you aren't too busy? I think Takashi would like some tea, too, if that's okay."  
"We're never too busy for you, Mr. Haninozuka," Momo grinned, while Fuji slipped quietly off to the kitchen. "You and Mr. Morinozuka are always our best customers.". Glancing toward the front door, he added, "Speakin a which, where's Mr. Morinozuka at? He parkin the car?"

"Yes, out back since we're staying," answered the decidedly boyish fellow. Then he turned, and noticed Arai with a little half-frown, and Arai, who had been doing his best not to be noticed, tensed with worry.

"Shouldn't you finish helping your customer first though, Momo? I'm sorry for interrupting," he told Arai, giving him a sincere look.

"No worries, Mr. Haninozuka. This kid was helping out in the shop all day. We thought you might like to meet him." With a little wink to Arai, he gestured him over. "C'mon kid, no reason to be shy."

Arai realized it was true, but he still felt nervous and dry-mouthed, approaching the young man now smiling attentively at him. He swiped a hand over his head to catch his non-existent hat, worked up a crooked, awkward smile, and barely mumbled his "How d'ye do, sir?"

"Mr. Haninozuka, Arai. Arai, Mr. Haninozuka," Momo provided briskly.  
"It's very nice to meet you, Arai.". Mr. Haninozuka's smile was warm and bright once more, and Arai didn't think he had ever met anybody who seemed so truly happy to make another person's acquaintance before. He put out his clean, small hand to shake, and Arai self-consciously dusted his own hand off on his old worn chinos, before taking it.

"Thank you sir, it's real nice to meet you too, sir. You have a great shop, here."

"Did Momo and Fuji just hire you today? I'm glad they found some good help before the holidays. Last year they worked so hard! I had to send Takashi to take on the deliveries, so they could keep up with the orders. And I know they worked all night, before Christmas". He shook his head and tsked softly, before patting Arai confidingly on the arm. "You'll be a big help for them, yes?"

Needless to say, Arai was startled at having the decision so suddenly made for him. He'd meant to think on it some, and see how Roy felt about staying on. As it stood, he didn't even know where they'd spend tonight.

But Mr. Haninozuka looked so pleased, and hopeful, and Arai didn't have the heart to contradict him. And who knew if another chance might ever come along like this? Nobody had ever offered him and Roy a long-term job before....at least not any kind of job Arai felt comfortable taking on.

"I--I'll do my best, sir." He'd just have to hope Roy was all right with staying on here.

Although speaking of which....  
"Um, sorry" he murmured to Momo. "But maybe I should look for Roy?"

"Roy?" asked Mr. Haninozuka, just as Fuji poked his head back in from the kitchen, with a twinkling smile.

"Not to worry," he said, "I think Roy was just making a new friend."

At Arai's startled, "Eh?", Fuji beckoned him over.  
"Mr. Morinozuka met him at the back door. They're just having some tea now."

Arai hurried over, alarmed, knowing Roy had never been good with strangers, and this was not a good time for everybody to suddenly find that out.

But when he ducked into the next room, with Momo and Fuji explaining things to Mr. Haninozuka, he was stunned to discover the trouble he'd anticipated hadn't developed.

Roy sat quiet and sedate, at the same table where they'd eaten lunch earlier, next to a tall, straight-backed man with short black hair, dressed in a sharp black suit.

The tall man was pouring tea into a white china cup, with calm, ceremonial slowness, and Roy watched him, as if hypnotized.

"Sugar?" the man asked, in a deep, soft voice, and Roy cocked his head, eyes roaming over the items on the table.

"No. Sugar. Thanks."  
"Cream?" the man offered, gesturing toward a little silver pitcher.  
"Cream. Please," Roy nodded.

Arai sidled closer, sensing the others hanging back behind him, and Roy and the tall man both looked up to him at the same time.

"Um. Hi," he smiled nervously. "Everything okay, Roy?"

"Okay," Roy nodded. "Tea time."  
"Ah. Well. Good," said Arai, totally baffled at the change in his companion.

Just as the tall man was rising smoothly to meet him, Arai jumped at the voice over his shoulder.

"You could say Mr. Morinozuka has a way with shy fellows," explained a smiling Fuji, before coming around to make introductions.

***

It wasn't long before Arai found himself seated at the table alongside Roy, with Momo crammed in on his other side while Fuji, Mr. Haninozuka and Mr. Morinozuka shuffled for space on the other side. Mr. Haninozuka had joyously proclaimed it a tea party, as though being stuffed elbow to elbow with working men far beneath his station was the best possible luck he could have hoped for that day, an attitude Arai found frankly perplexing. Not that he minded the company, but it was a rare thing for those as fortunate as Mr. Haninozuka clearly was to be tolerant of the lower classes.

To his further amazement, Mr. Haninozuka insisted on cutting the cake, serving fat slabs first to Roy, then to Arai himself, before rewarding both of his regular employees with slices of their own. A good third of the cake was gone before Mr. Haninozuka cut an enormous wedge for himself, sitting back with a contented sigh and dipping a fork down to take a delicate bite. His dark eyes rolled back in bliss as he savored the taste, and he grinned at Fuji in delight once he was done chewing.

"Oh, this is wonderful!" he declared in his high, childish voice. "Fuji, you have to make this again for Christmas!"

"Mr. Haninozuka is too kind," Fuji replied with a gracious nod. "Of course, I will be happy to include it in the holiday baking."

"Cake?" Roy said suddenly, and Momo chuckled deep in his throat. 

"Fuji always bakes for Mr. Haninozuka's parties," he supplied. "It's kinda like a tradition, y'know? All the best recipes from the whole year get turned out for the big shindig, an' everyone wears their best, and me an' Fuji get to sit with the guests instead of serving..."

"Cake," Roy interrupted firmly, pointing at the empty table in front of Mr. Morinozuka. Fork halfway to his mouth (the cake really was delicious), Arai realized that he hadn't even noticed that the tall man had none. He quickly put his fork down, embarrassed that he'd already begun eating before everyone had been served.

"It's okay," Mr. Haninozuka piped up, patting his companion on the shoulder. "Takashi doesn't like sweets, right?"

"Mm," the other man agreed, meeting Roy's eyes with what seemed to be a reassuring gaze. Arai's friend slowly relaxed, though his brows furrowed in confusion. Roy liked sweets very much, even if he couldn't stomach them well. Which didn't tend to matter, when they were generally lucky to get even hardtack for a meal. Cake was a treat so rare as to be all but unheard of, and Arai hoped hard that he wouldn't have a stomachache later as a result of all the rich food he'd eaten today.

Mr. Haninozuka chattered artlessly with Fuji and Momo, occasionally directing a comment at Arai with a grin, and gradually Arai felt himself relaxing. It was a friendly atmosphere of the sort he hadn't encountered in ages and his innate affability, repressed by his months on the road, began blossoming anew. He found himself responding to Mr. Haninozuka's questions with mostly honest candor, only reverting to The Story when the inquiries brushed too close to the things he felt he couldn't really explain without inviting closer examination. Even Roy joined in occasionally, punctuating the conversation with his one word observations that made Momo laugh and Mr, Haninozuka giggle like a schoolboy. Mr. Morinozuka sipped his tea, only offering sporadic grunts that everyone else accepted as conversation, but watching everything around him with a keenness that his laconic posture didn't quite hide.

The doorbell tinkled, and Fuji immediately rose from his chair, excusing himself to assist the customer. Mr. Haninozuka was starting on his second slice of cake, licking the chocolate frosting from a strawberry while Roy eyed the cake with open longing. Catching the expression, the shop owner grinned and motioned to what remained of the cake. "Would you like another piece?" he asked.

"Yes!" Roy replied eagerly, but Arai elbowed him in the ribs.

"You'll be sick tonight," he told the other man, who sagged in disappointment. "Thank Mr. Haninozuka for his generosity."

"Thank you," Roy answered sullenly, staring down at his empty plate with resentment, and Arai rather hoped he wouldn't pick the thing up and start licking it. Arai repeated his own appreciation of the treat, keeping one eye on Roy to make sure he behaved.

"Momo." Fuji poked his head through the doorway. "I need your help. Alphonse is here, and he needs some assistance carrying his order back to his shop, and I still need to talk to Mr. Haninozuka."

Momo made a face, rising with reluctance. "Where's his brother at?"

"Sounds as though there was another accident in the lab," Fuji sighed, and Mr. Haninozuka made a quiet sound of distress. "Alphonse doesn't seem too worried, but it's apparently enough to keep Edward down for a few days."

"Meanin' it woulda killed anyone less ornery," Momo muttered, but he picked up the pace to follow Fuji out to the front of the store.

**

Realizing it looked bad to be sitting down on the job so soon after getting it, Arai half-rose and called after Fuji. "Can I help out with anything?"

But Fuji shook his head. "Their shop is just down the block. Momo and Alphonse can take care of it. Finish your tea, it's all right," he smiled, and passed from the room.

Arai settled back in his chair a little stiffly, unsure how to act with the shop owner and his...(driver? Bodyguard? What was Mr. Morinozuka, anyway?) quiet companion, without the buffering presence of his new bosses.

He glanced over at Roy, still moping over his empty plate, and remembered he hadn't mentioned their sudden change in prospects to him. Maybe it would cheer him up, though.

"Hey Roy?" he said softly. "We had a good day here, huh?"  
Roy furrowed his brow a bit, then gave Arai a cautious sidelong look.

"Good," he repeated, in a neutral voice. He briefly eyed the remains of the chocolate cake on the platter, the tea service, and then slowly took in the rest of the room, before sighing heavily.

"Good day. But....go now?"

Arai felt a sad twinge at the man's resignation, just as he had every other time they'd been forced to move on. It was hard for Roy sometimes, leaving a place so soon after getting used to it. It was especially hard on those rare occasions that people had been nice to them, giving them good food or a safe comfortable place to stay the night. Roy didn't really understand why they couldn't stay in the good places. But he loyally followed Arai anyway, even when it left him disheartened.

This time it was different though. Arai wouldn't let himself get his hopes up; he couldn't totally believe their luck had turned around for good. But at least for a little while, they could stay put.

"Nah, we don't have to go yet. Fuji and Momo, and Mr. Haninozuka said we could stay awhile. You wanna do that?"

Roy listened closely, watching Arai, and then gazing around uncertainly. "Stay. Sleep?"

"Uh, no, I don't think there's a place to sleep here...." He wasn't too worried about that, though. He'd scoped out the alley behind the bakery earlier, and seen a fire escape where they could climb up and safely spend the night. "I mean tomorrow, we can come back here and work again. We can help Fuji and Momo some more. Is that okay with you?"

Roy had to work this out for a bit, so Arai sat quietly and didn't rush him. By and large, Roy went along with whatever Arai suggested. Sometimes because he didn't really understand what was being suggested, but mostly, Arai suspected, because he was aware he didn't have much choice. There were lots of things Roy had trouble grasping, but one thing he seemed to know for sure was that he couldn't make it all by himself. It wasn't something Arai ever wanted to bring up, and he would never have held it against Roy in a disagreement. The poor guy was bad enough off as it was, which was why, even though Roy didn't have much choice about sticking with him, Arai tried to at least give him some say in their decisions, and the time to work it all out.

"Sweep? To--tomorrow?" asked Roy.  
"Sure, you can sweep tomorrow. And maybe wash some dishes. You'd like that, huh?" He'd discovered a few towns back, that sudsy water was fascinating to Roy. The man's hands were too clumsy for drying, but give him a sink full of suds, and he'd scrub dishes til the cows came home.

"Wash." Roy perked up, nodding, and then eyed the tea and cake service on the table. "Wash now?"

"Ah, we better hang on a bit. I don't think everybody's done yet." Arai glanced toward Mr. Haninozuka, who'd paused in his third helping of cake, with a tiny, quiet smile.

Arai wasn't sure what the smile was for, but he'd swear that Mr. Morinozuka--whose expression never seemed to change much--had just a ghost of it too. He was looking down at his tea cup, while Mr. Haninozuka seemed to be looking at a crumb next to his fork.

"Hm," he said, in a thoughtful, quiet tone.  
Arai wasn't sure what the Hm was for, or what the two men could both be smiling about. Maybe it was an inside thing between them. At any rate, before he had a chance to find out, Fuji was coming back, apologizing for being gone so long, and Mr. Haninozuka was bright and cheery again, saying, "Neh, it's no trouble. Come and let's talk now, yes?"

Figuring he and Roy didn't really belong in a business discussion, Arai started gathering his dishes, motioning to Roy to do the same.

"Me and Roy can start cleaning up, if that's okay," he mentioned. To his surprise, Mr. Morinozuka rose as well.

"I'll help," he said, and Fuji gave the three of them an amused look.  
"I always tell Mr. Morinozuka he isn't expected to work here, and he always does it anyway." Shaking his head, he added, "Go ahead, then if you insist. Mr. Morinozuka knows where everything goes in the kitchen."

Before leading Arai and Roy off, the tall man lifted the tea pot, and tilted it gently, to check the contents. "I'll make more."

Fuji chuckled softly. "Thank you."

While Roy kept a curious eye on Mr. Morinozuka, Arai kept an eye on the plates in Roy's hands, to make sure he didn't accidentally drop them. It was a problem the man had, hanging onto things when he got distracted. Although his hands looked normal, they weren't as flexible as most people's, Arai had learned.

When they first met, Roy couldn't hardly use a fork or a spoon, and ended up just eating with his hands. Seeing the stares he would get from people, Arai started coaching him, reminding him to take his time and be careful. Roy didn't quite understand about the need to blend in, but he wanted to do the things Arai showed him, and he didn't like people's stares and comments, so unless he was starving, he did his best with forks and spoons.

Smaller objects were pretty much beyond him, though. He wore his trousers with a drawstring, so he wouldn't have to fumble with buttons, and Arai had rigged the laces on his worn old boots so Roy could just slip them on. He couldn't pick up a slip of paper off a flat table to save his life, but after a lot of work, Roy could pick up plates and cups, and so long as one of them was paying attention, he almost never dropped them anymore.

In this case, it was Arai paying attention to Roy's dishes, across the kitchen to the sink, because Roy was entirely interested in Mr. Morinozuka.

Which was understandable, Arai supposed. The man was striking, with his dark eyes and black hair, and perfectly straight posture. He didn't move stiffly, like most people who stood so straight. Nor was he the least bit awkward, like people with long arms and legs were apt to be.

Come to think of it, he moved a little like Roy did. Smooth and silent, so you could hardly tell he was moving at all. More than once, Roy had about scared him to death with that, coming up behind him without a sound, or seeming to melt out of the shadows at night.

Arai wondered if Mr. Morinozuka could do that too, and if so, maybe he should be wary so he didn't scream like a girl, the way he had with Roy a few times. It was one thing to humiliate himself in front of Roy, who was pretty much used to it by now. But he really didn't want to go looking like a twerp in front of somebody as cool and together as this guy.

Of course, if he'd kept his eyes on his own dishes, that might have helped.


	4. Chapter 4

It wasn't the sound the thin plates made as they shattered on the floor that made Arai flinch so much as the way Mr. Morinozuka's eyes suddenly met his from across the room. Suddenly, Arai wanted nothing more than to grab Roy's arm and flee. Even if he hadn't just ruined what had appeared to be a plum job, he'd made a total fool of himself in front of Mr. Morinozuka, and that seemed worst of all. Suddenly feeling ill, Arai dropped to his knees, hands sweeping across the floor as he started gathering the shards to him and babbling, "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry, I'll work to pay it back, I promise..."

Roy was watching him in dumb shock, his strange eyes dilated and his body tense with fear. He'd seen the result of similar mishaps before, had been the cause of more than a few of them, and Arai knew he was remembering the repercussions: pain, violence, flight. He remembered those instances too, and although he didn't think these people were like that, the instinct was too ingrained by now for him to react any other way. Like Roy, he'd been hurt too many times before.

So it nearly terrified him when he found his wrist in a firm hand, his fear strong enough that the gentleness of the grip didn't quite register. He almost tried to yank his hand back, and he really was ready to bolt out the door, when he happened to raise his head and meet dark eyes that fixed him to the spot, and silenced any other thoughts in his head.

Mr. Morinozuka's eyes were intense, as black as Roy's, though obviously without the peculiar gold that ringed his companion's. But it was the compassion that shone from them, a palpable, innate goodness, that made him catch his breath and dare to hope that he hadn't ruined everything with his clumsiness.

Turning his hand palm up, the dignified man glanced down before looking back into Arai's horrified face. "I'm sorry," Arai whispered again, feeling tears welling in the corners of his eyes. "I swear, I didn't mean to..."

"You're bleeding." Mr. Morinozuka's voice rumbled deep and rich, and without a hint of censure. It took a moment for his words to sink in, and when they finally did Arai followed the other man's gaze and was surprised to see lines of red blossoming across his palm. He gulped, the sting of the cuts making itself known, and said again, miserably, "I'm sorry..."

"Is everything- oh!" Fuji's eyes opened in surprise as he took in the sight in the kitchen, Arai and Mr. Morinozuka kneeling amid broken dishware, Arai's bloody hand held aloft while Roy cowered against the wall, his own load of dishes tipping precariously in his hands.

Deftly retrieving the endangered plates from Roy, Fuji hurried to hover over the pair on the floor. "Oh my, your hand! The first aid box, where did Momo put it...?" Sliding the plates onto the counter, he rushed back out through the curtain, sending the cloth billowing in his wake. He was back only moments later, a small white metal box clutched in both hands. "Let me see," he said, starting to crouch at Arai's side, but Mr. Morinozuka held his hand out for the box.

"Please finish your talk with Mitsukuni," he said in that soft voice that exerted such power. "I'll tend to his hand."

"Tch, Mr. Morinozuka shouldn't have to do such things!"

"It's fine. Please allow me to do this, while you conclude your business." It was a request, and yet it wasn't, and Fuji could only nod and quietly extend his thanks before retreating from the room, though not without a consoling pat on the shoulder for Roy. "He'll be okay," he assured the other man, who was shaking by now, still staring at Arai. "Mr. Morinozuka will take good care of your friend."

The tall man let go of Arai's wrist to draw out a length of gauze, and some alcohol swabs. "We should run cold water over the cuts," he said, "to make sure there are no pieces of porcelain caught in the skin. It will also help stop the bleeding."

"You don't have to do this, sir," Arai blurted out, as he struggled to his feet. "You shouldn't trouble yourself with me, I can clean it up. And then I'll clean up the mess I made, and finish with the kitchen, and I swear I won't break anything else, and I'll find some way to pay..."

Mr. Morinozuka halted the tumbling flow of words with a quizzical quirk of his eyebrows. "They're just plates," he murmured, as though it really were of no consequence.

***

Just plates? Just plates?

Arai knew he was gawking at the man like a fool, but he couldn't help it.

They hadn't been 'just plates', when that lady in the cafe slapped Roy so hard he got a black eye, for fumbling a tray of dishes after somebody bumped into him. It wasn't just plates, when they got kicked out of the farmer's bunkhouse, with no pay and no dinner, for breaking the handle off that coffee mug.

And even when people didn't get ugly or violent, they still got annoyed when you broke stuff. It wasn't like dishes grew on trees. They cost good money (as Arai and Roy had been told many, many times already), and nobody had that to spare nowadays. People couldn't afford to be careless with things, and worst of all was when you were careless with another person's things.

But maybe that was the difference, between rich, high class people and everyone else. They didn't have to care so much about one or two dishes, since they could always get new ones. And if Mr. Morinozuka was as well off as Mr. Haninozuka, then maybe it really was 'just plates' to him.

Though that didn't exactly explain why the man was being so....careful with him, over the whole thing. Mr. Morinozuka had led him over to the sink, put on the faucet for him, and told him to let the water run on his cuts for a bit. While Arai did that, Mr. Morinozuka brought over a kitchen stool, so Arai could sit, and then went over to talk with Roy, who'd been pressing himself hard against the kitchen wall, like he was trying to escape backwards through the plaster.

Poor Roy was spooked badly, and just about ready to bolt, Arai could tell. There was no telling what he might do when he got worked up like that, as Arai had learned the hard way before, and he wanted to warn Mr. Morinozuka, before the man accidentally cornered Roy.

"Be careful," he said, keeping his voice down. "Don't scare him, okay?"  
Mr. Morinozuka paused halfway, and gave a single nod, to show he'd heard.

"It's all right," the man said to Roy, in a voice Arai could barely hear over the soft hiss of the water faucet. "You don't have to be afraid."

Roy stared at him, wide-eyed, flattening himself against the wall, with every muscle coiled tight as a watch spring.  
.  
"Hurt," he said, in a raw throaty mumble, flicking a look at Arai, and then riveting his gaze on the man now taking another cautious step toward him.

"You won't be hurt," Mr. Morinozuka answered, but Roy made an anxious chuffing noise, and pointed a shaky hand at Arai.

"Hurt."

"It's nothin, just a scratch, Roy," Arai provided. "We're gonna put a bandage on, and fix it. You wanna come see?"

Roy blinked, between him, and Mr. Morinozuka, and then back to Arai. "Fix?"

"Yeah, like that time when you got scratched by the fence. You remember? We fixed that, too, right?" Arai wasn't sure if Roy would remember the time he'd gotten his leg snagged in that barbed wire, and Arai (after a lot of patience and convincing), had washed out the wound and bandaged him up. But sometimes, it wasn't what you said to Roy as how you said it, that made the difference.

"Mr. Morinozuka is gonna help fix it. Don't be scared. You didn't do anything bad. We're not in trouble." Well, not with this guy anyway. Though even if Momo and Fuji didn't feel like it was 'just plates', he didn't think they would rough him and Roy up over the mishap, either.

He still felt rotten about it. He knew one way or another he was going to have to make up for being careless. But right now it was more important that Roy not panic and make things worse.

And then it hit him, that Mr. Morinozuka had figured that exact thing out before he had. Why he should care about it, or make the effort for Roy's sake, Arai had no idea, but he had.

There was something else Mr. Morinozuka had figured out, too. Still facing Roy, standing tall and perfectly still, arms relaxed at his sides, he said, "You were hurt before. Because of accidents."

Thinking he was talking about the fence thing, Arai said, "We got in a few scrapes, no big deal." That was what he always said about their mishaps, when he told The Story. He didn't want people's pity, and he didn't want anybody getting the idea that him and Roy couldn't look after themselves. If anybody noticed scars, scabs, or bruises, Arai always just played it off. It was nothing. No big deal. Just a bump or a scratch.

Explaining it like that was such a habit by now, that Arai didn't even think twice about it. He didn't have to, really, because nobody ever pressed for details.

But then Mr. Morinozuka said, "People hurt you. Because you made mistakes." It was that same impossibly soft voice, but there was a tenseness about his shoulders that hadn't been there before.

And Arai had no idea what to say to that. The Story never went near those instances, and nobody had ever put it out, point blank like that before. Mr. Morinozuka had somehow struck him totally off-guard, and speechless for the second time in three minutes.

Maybe if he'd been prepared, he could've changed the subject. Or known some way to answer that would keep him from having to talk about it. But honestly his mind was a blank.

Roy had caught the drift of the conversation well enough, though.  
"Hurt," he nodded, looking down at his boots. "Get a smack."  
He frowned and rubbed a spot on his head, and Arai knew he was remembering the guy who'd konked him with a rock once, for walking across a freshly-painted front porch.

Mr. Morinozuka stood still as a statue, and then he sighed, and slowly turned to look at Arai over his shoulder.

It was a searching, powerfully uncomfortable look. To Arai it felt like that Last Judgement thing those tent preachers carried on about, where the angel with the fiery sword stared you down and saw every deed you ever did, all the bad things and every little white lie you ever told. Arai had been skeptical that such a thing would happen when he died--it always sounded far fetched to him--but with the way Mr. Morinozuka was looking at him, he thought he might change his mind.

There wasn't any Story that would get past this man, he knew. Mr. Morinozuka probably never told a story or a white lie in his whole life, but you could tell just from his eyes that he could spot one from a mile off.

Arai squirmed, and ducked the man's gaze, fumbling at the cold water tap to turn it off, just to give his hand something to do.

"I--uh--I think it's all washed out now," he mumbled, studying the clean thin slices across his palm and fingers, and praying with all his might that the man would let the other subject go. That stuff was in the past, behind them. He and Roy had survived it, and there was no need to go digging it all up now. If he remembered things like that all the time, he'd just end up feeling hopeless, and he couldn't do that.

Every day, no matter how hard things were, he had to keep hope, and keep believing for his and Roy's sake, that things would get better.

And for once, it seemed like somebody heard his prayers. A shadow fell over him, and it was Mr. Morinozuka, come back to bandage his hand up. He didn't say anything, just dabbed on a bit of rubbing alcohol, and made a series of tidy bandages from the gauze, over each of Arai's cuts.

Since he didn't think he could stand up under the man's piercing gaze, Arai just watched his hands work, skillful as a doctor's, and unexpectedly gentle. Unlike Mr. Haninozuka, he had callouses on his palms and fingers. The kind you earned from hard work, like Arai and Roy had. He wondered what a guy in such a fine suit might do, to get callouses like that. Or how he'd learned to bandage up cuts so well.

From the corner of his eye, Arai saw Roy sidling closer, curiosity finally overcoming his fear. He inched over and stood at Arai's shoulder, and Arai gave him a reassuring smile. "See? There's nothing to it."

Roy hmmed over the neat white bandages. "Good as new?" he asked, with such a serious expression, that Arai chuckled.

"Yep, good as new. Mr. Morinozuka is a good doctor, yeah?"  
"Hm," Roy agreed, and then glanced over at the floor. "Messy. Sweep now?"

"Good idea," Arai nodded. "Be careful with the pieces though. They're sharp."

Roy headed off to get the broom, and Mr. Morinozuka drew back, and inspected his work.  
"Too tight?" he asked.

Arai flexed his fingers experimentally. "No, it's perfect. Thank you, sir." He struggled for a second with his fidgety discomfort, knowing you were supposed to look folks in the eye when you thanked them, but nervous about what he might see when he looked up.

"Thanks for....being nice to Roy, too. He--he gets scared easy. And people aren't usually that nice to him."

"They were wrong, for hurting either of you," Mr. Morinozuka said.  
Arai ducked his head further down. "I know." But what were they supposed to do about it? He shrugged one shoulder, rather than say too much or say the wrong thing.

"No one here will ever hurt you."

It was the conviction in his voice, an unspoken shadow of or else, that finally got Arai to look up, startled, into Mr. Morinozuka's steady, fathomless gaze.

How come you care? Was all Arai could think to say, but he didn't dare. So he just said, "Yes sir," because when in doubt, that was always safe.

Then Roy came back and started sweeping up, and Mr. Morinozuka gave him the faintest little quirk of a smile, and went to make tea.

Arai hopped off the kitchen stool to help Roy with the dustpan, and shortly after that, Momo came in from the next room with a few more empty plates. He must have gotten the report from Fuji already, because he straightaway came to check out Arai's hand, and to Arai's startlement, actually teased him.

"Jeez, I leave this joint for five minutes and all hell breaks loose. Next time you wanna juggle some dishes, kid, do it when I'm here, for Pete's sake. I hate missin a good show." He grinned and ruffled Arai's hair on top, and loped off to set the dishes by the sink, like he hadn't a care in the world.

Arai was understandably thrown by that reaction, and ended up stumbling over his apologies . He managed to get across that he was sorry as anything, that he'd work extra to pay it off, but Momo just flapped a hand at him.

"No sweat, kid. Forget about it. Just watch yourself next time, okay? We can replace the dishes no problem. Comin up with new hands and fingers is pretty tough though, you get me?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." He'd honestly never thought about it like that, to be honest.

**

"I mean," Momo continued airily, turning on the tap and letting the water run as it warmed, "you could always get clockworks, like the Elric kid, but who'd want it, and who's got the money for that anyway?"

What in the world did clocks have to do with fingers? Arai wondered, wrinkling his nose up in confusion. "Clockworks, sir?"

Momo winced, his expression souring. "Dammit, me and my big mouth... Look kid, don't say nothing about clockworks to them Elrics, okay? It's a kinda touchy subject."

"Uh, okay." Simple enough, considering Arai had no earthly idea what Momo was talking about, and he knew better than to pry into other folks' affairs anyway. Stick to your own business, leave others to their own; that was the way to stay out of trouble.

Of course, such thoughts brought him back to the perplexing attitude of his newfound employers. More specifically, Mr. Morinozuka, and his astute inference. Arai wasn't sure if he was comfortable with anyone having an inkling of what he and Roy had been going through for months, let alone someone like that. Although exactly what Mr. Morinozuka was, was something that he hadn't any inkling of. A conundrum- that's what he was. And those made him uneasy.

But... it wasn't like Mr. Morinozuka himself made him uneasy. Quite the opposite. The man went out of his way to treat him and Roy decent, and to go so far as to point out that their mistreatment had been wrong? How did one classify someone like that? He'd almost forgotten that people could be like that- forgiving, accepting. Kind. 

And now he and Roy had run square into a whole bunch of people like that. Arai had no idea if he ought to be on his knees thanking them, or if he should be looking over his shoulder for the catch. For now though, they were safe, they were fed, and that was more than either one of them were used to. He could live with that.

Vaguely, he became aware that Momo had been speaking his name over and over. He stiffened to attention, flushing as the spiky-haired man laughed, and waved a hand in front of his face.

"Kid! Damn, but I thought you'd gone to sleep on your feet! I said it's time to close up. You okay to walk?"

Roy was at his side, humming and making indistinct noises; not quite words, just comforting sounds, and Arai realized that his friend was probably still worried about his hand. He nodded to Momo, as he reached out with his uninjured hand to take Roy's, squeezing it gently. "Yeah, I'm okay. Sorry I spaced out."

Still chuckling, Momo steered them out of the kitchen and into the front of the store, where Mr. Haninozuka and Mr. Morinozuka were preparing to depart, while Fuji stood by, all smiles. Remembering his manners, Arai approached Mr. Haninozuka and wrung his cap nervously in his hands as he profusely thanked the man once again for the job and tried to offer apologies for the broken dishes. 

But just as Mr. Morinozuka had, Mr. Haninozuka brushed off the damage without a thought, leaving Arai blinking in confusion. He was aware of Mr. Morinozuka's eyes upon him, but he still couldn't quite bring himself to face the man, so he bid them good evening while staring at his shoes, not looking up until the bell on the door tinkled, signifying their departure.

"So Arai," Fuji said, turning his attention to the newcomers once more, "how early can you and Roy be here tomorrow?"

They still wanted them to work here. It was nothing short of miraculous, in Arai's eyes. "As early as you'd like us to be, sir," he answered. "We're happy to work."

"Fuji," the man corrected gently. "We're friends, yes? Can you be here at five in the morning? That's not too early?"

"Five, yes, we can be here." Arai would have promised anything at this point. Five a.m. was nothing. 

Momo snorted. "Fuji must like you. Me, he has here at four."

"We can be here..." Arai began, but Fuji cut him off. 

"No need. There's not much you can help with that early, and Momo is a beast in the morning anyway." He cast a fond glance at the other man, who glowered in return. Turning back to Arai and Roy, he frowned just slightly. "Do you have a place to stay?"

Arai thought about the fire escape in the alley, and plastered on his brightest grin. "Sure. You betcha." Behind him, Roy made a quizzical sound, but Arai was pretty sure that neither Momo nor Fuji knew him well enough yet to interpret it.

Sure enough, Fuji smiled warmly at them. "Well then, I suppose we'll see you in the morning then. Thank you for your work today."

Still grinning, Arai doffed his cap and waved at the two men before leading Roy out the front door and into the cool evening air. Trotting at his heels as Arai sauntered down the block, Roy hummed urgently.

"Sleep?" he muttered, sounding anxious.

"Sure thing," Arai assured him. "I found a place earlier."

He led them around the block, and up the alley that backed up to the bakery. A few doors past the store itself was the rusty fire escape, and Roy brightened as soon as he saw it. Rooftops were nearly always safer than park benches, always better than alleys, and Roy loved climbing anyway. He bounded to the fore, nimbly pulling himself up on the ladder and scampering for the top. Arai smiled, watching him climb, and followed at a slightly slower pace, favoring his bandaged hand.

The roof was mostly flat, with only a gentle pitch, and relatively free of bird droppings. Arai couldn't have asked for a better place. Roy had already dropped down to crouch about two thirds of the way up; far enough from the edge that they'd be safe even if they slipped, but not so high up that they could be seen over the peak if they sat up. He gave a toothy grin as Arai joined him.

"Nice," he said, and yawned.

"Yeah," Arai agreed, tugging his thin jacket a little tighter. "But we'd better sleep now. Five o'clock, Roy. We have to be there at five. Got it?"

Arai had learned a long time ago that Roy had a nearly infallible internal clock. It was really handy, since there was no way either one of them could have afforded even a modest timepiece. The only trick was making Roy understand the importance of the time; just because he always knew the hour, didn't mean he had any idea of what that meant.

"Five," Arai said again, and Roy nodded, repeating the time, before yawning again. Satisfied, Arai watched the other man curl up on his side, his eyes sagging shut, before tugging the cap down over his own eyes. He leaned back, using the curve of Roy's body like a pillow, and sharing their body heat the two of them drifted off to sleep in a matter of minutes.


	5. Chapter 5

He was laying back on the grassy bank of the river, watching the sunset sky change colors, feeling happy as he could ever remember being. It was late summer, warm, and he was barefoot, dressed in his comfy old overalls.

Pretty soon it would be time to pack up his fishing tackle and head off for home, but for now Arai was content just to lay back, chewing on the long blade of grass in his mouth, listening to the first crickets starting up their evening chorus.

It was his favorite dream, and he knew it was just a dream, but he enjoyed it anyway. Ever since he'd left home, the dream had followed him, and no matter where he woke up, he always felt a little better when he could wake up from this place.

He stretched his arms back over his head, and smiled with the simple pleasure of being alive. No worries, no fears or struggles. No need to keep his hopes up, because everything he could hope for was already right here. Somehow, he was sure of that.

The crickets chirped, and the sun slipped a little lower in the sky, and then suddenly somebody else was there; a long shadow blocking the warm golden light of the sun.

"It's almost time to go," the somebody said. Arai couldn't make out who it was, with the sun behind them, but although the person was new to this dream, the voice seemed awfully familiar. Deep and soft, and warm as the summer evening.

"Yeah," Arai sighed, taking the grass stalk from his teeth. "Sure wish I could stick around, though."

"Can't stay in one place all the time," the somebody observed, and Arai was pretty sure they were smiling. "If you stay here, then you'll miss breakfast."

Arai chuckled, about to remind the somebody that it was coming on supper time, breakfast wasn't til tomorrow. But then his shoulder was being jostled, and he heard Roy softly chanting in his ear, "Five o'clock, get up, hungry, up up up," and Arai was back on the bakery roof, chilled and stiff in the pre-dawn darkness, but nonetheless pretty happy because he'd had that dream again.

"Yeah, yeah, thanks, I'm up.". He gently shoved Roy off, yawning, and stretching out his sore arms and legs.  
"Hungry," Roy repeated, in case Arai had missed it the first time.

"I know, pal, me too.". He knuckled the sleep from his eyes, and attempted to flatten down his wayward bed hair. "We might have to work first though, so don't be a hassle, alright? Don't bug Fuji and Momo, just do what they tell us."

"Hotcakes," Roy told him, with an earnest gleam in his eye.

"I know you heard me," Arai said patiently, and then leaned forward, adding, "C'mere, let me fix your hair too, so we look halfway respectable."

Tonight, he decided, they were going to scope out a rain barrel or a hose somewhere, and get a wash. Roy didn't mind going ages without a bath, but after a few days Arai couldn't stand the smell of himself.

Roy sat obediently still while Arai straightened his hair out a little, and then he slipped nimbly off for the fire escape ladder, murmuring _"Hotcakes,"_ under his breath. Arai shook his head, yawned again, and crawled carefully after him.

Of course he knew Roy wasn't psychic, he just had a really sharp nose. And when Fuji bustled them off first thing for the table, laden with stacks of hotcakes, sausage, eggs, and toast (where a still sleepy eyed Momo was just polishing off his own plate), all Arai could do was grin and shrug at Roy's triumphant smirk.

Breakfast was the most important meal of the day, Fuji told them, in all seriousness. It seemed he'd gotten so put out with Momo's failure to eat a decent breakfast, that he'd taken to making it for him. Along with a good bit of strong coffee because Momo was evidently not at all a morning person.

Arai wasn't enough of a morning person--at least not at 5am--to gracefully turn down a free hot meal, and there was no taking away food from Roy once it was set in front of him, so all he could do was thank Fuji a lot, and praise the delicious food as best he could, while shoveling it down gratefully.

While they ate, Fuji explained the plan for the morning.  
"Starting at six, you can expect to see the entire neighborhood coming through here. Momo will take the register, and he'll need you," he told Arai, "to bag the orders. I'll be finishing the stock for the late morning customers, and setting up the delivery orders. Roy, would you like to help with cleanup?"

"Wash," Roy announced, digging happily into his hotcakes.

"Excellent," Fuji smiled. "It looks like we won't be completely overrun for once, neh Momo?"  
"Swell," Momo nodded into his coffee.

Once they were done eating, Fuji brought out a pair of crisp white aprons just like his and Momo's, for Arai and Roy to wear.  
"So you look like proper employees," said Fuji, though Arai was mostly happy for something to hide their worn and grubby street clothes.

Momo perked up quite a bit, once the bell sounded, and the first customer came in.  
"Yo, Mr. Inoue, how they hangin'? Three walnut muffins, am I right?"  
The fellow nodded, and Arai hopped to, to fill the bag just like Momo had shown him. Momo introduced Arai and explained Mr. Inoue was the sports reporter on the local paper, and Arai said how d'ye do, and then the fellows swapped baseball opinions for a bit, and Mr. Inoue paid and strode off whistling, with his muffins.

After that it was Barney the milkman, and four cinnamon rolls. Mrs. Nodame, the high school piano teacher and a chocolate eclair. Mr. Bradley, Momo's super, and a dozen jelly donuts. People came in thick after that, and pretty soon Arai's head was spinning from all the names. But he kept up with the orders, and didn't screw anything up, and after awhile Momo clapped him on the back, and winked.

"Doin' a heck of a job kid. Just keep it up and pretty soon it'll be easy."

In truth, it wasn't that hard. Not like bussing tables in a packed diner for ten hours, or digging post holes in a rocky pasture, or fixing roofs on houses, or any of the other odd jobs he'd taken on. Running the register might be over his head; he sure didn't have the brain for math like Momo did, but that was fine. Bagging pastries and greeting customers, and running to the back to swap out empty trays for full ones was plenty good for him.

And if the job ever got dull, at least Momo would be there to keep it interesting. The guy knew the whole neighborhood at a glance, knew what people did for a living, knew their families, knew books full of stories about them. In his time on the road, Arai had gotten pretty good at making friends with strangers, and getting along with people at first sight--given that they were reasonably friendly people to start with--but he had nothing like Momo's gift for remembering everything he'd ever heard about everyone he ever met. It was pretty amazing, and Arai made a point of telling him so.

"It ain't nothing much," Momo shrugged, smiling. "I been in this neighborhood my whole life, see all the same folks every day. I like it here, y'know? An' I like the people.". Then glancing out the storefront window, he grinned sharply. "Oh man, it's this guy, he's a real kick....". The bell sounded as the door swung open, and a bored-looking paper boy sauntered in.  
"Oi, Echizen, where you been, you runnin' late today, or what?"

"Che," the boy replied, rolling his eyes. "My dad wanted another match this morning. You got those cheese danishes today?"

"Got two of 'em just for you," Momo said, as Arai grabbed a sack. "So what's with your old man, don't he know you have a job to go to? What's the west side supposed to do, without you bringin' us the news? "

"What, you wanna try tellin' him?" the boy answered, looking like he could care less either way. Frankly Arai had to wonder why the kid wasn't in school, but since it was none of his business, he didn't wonder that hard.

**

"Hah, not me!" Momo exclaimed, looking faintly horrified at the suggestion as Arai trotted up holding the sack of danishes. "No offense, but your old man is nuts!"

Echizen sniffed, as if to say you're telling me that?

"Here you are, sir," Arai said, handing the bag over with the winning smile that had charmed Mrs. Nodame so well. But the paper boy just gave him a flat, challenging stare.

"Ain't a 'sir'," he retorted, taking the bag.

"Oh..." Once again, Arai found his courtesies being declined, and had to wonder if the whole town was this odd, or just the people who came into the bakery. "Sorry sir... I mean..." He floundered for words, blushing with embarrassment.

Echizen gave him that jaundiced look again, then suddenly shot Momo a wicked grin. "Che... He's a keeper, this one. Where'd you find him, heh?

Arai flushed hotter, while Momo laughed. "Just picked him up off the street," he said with an affectionate glance at his new hire. "Good worker, good kid- he was a lucky find for us."

The hard stare that turned back to him was appraising this time. "Lucky, eh? Okay, Lucky- be seeing you around, ne?" Echizen turned for the door, pausing before taking the handle to whip a paper from his sack and throw it with unerring precision on the counter in front of Momo. "Almost forgot," he said, then the bell over the door was jingling as he sauntered out onto the sidewalk.

Momo chuckled, unfolding the paper. "That guy..."

What Momo thought of 'that guy' was cut short, as a sleek black car pulled up to the curb out front. Momo immediately straightened, stuffing the newspaper under the counter and leaning over to grab Arai by the elbow. "Get Fuji," he told him, in a voice that brooked no argument, "and then you an' Roy stay tight in the back. Got it? Go!" He gave a little shove, and Arai needed no more incentive than that.

This was the kind of situation he was all to familiar with- the sense that he was doing something wrong, involved in things he'd do best to avoid, and his heart was racing by the time he skittered through the curtain and caught Fuji's eyes. "Momo says he needs you out front," he blurted out, and Fuji frowned.

"Already?" he murmured, wiping his hands on his apron and moving toward the doorway with brisk steps. "Roy's in the stockroom. Keep him quiet." He disappeared past the curtain just as the doorbell sounded its merry chime, his voice carrying a soft greeting that sounded flat and rehearsed.

Adrenaline buzzing through his veins, Arai hurried further into the back of the bakery, into the stockroom where Roy was placing bags of sugar on a shelf with careful precision. Glancing around, his face brightened when he saw Arai coming. "Look!" he exclaimed gleefully, gesturing at his handiwork with pride.

"Great," Arai agreed with less enthusiasm than usual, one ear still cocked toward the front of the store and Roy quickly caught his mood, whining with sudden anxiety. Arai shushed him, but put a reassuring hand on the other man's arm, not wanting Roy to get too worried. "We need to stay quiet," he warned and Roy, also used to this kind of scene, nodded warily.

He couldn't quite make out the words being spoken from the front; Fuji's light tones were clear, clipped and a little angry, while Momo was surprisingly silent. There was another voice as well, oily and sounding self-assured, and Arai wondered what manner of trouble might be brewing for his new employers. Whatever it was, it didn't seem to be new; Momo had recognized the car instantly, and Fuji had clued in to the problem without any reference at all.

Beside him, Roy bristled. "Bad," he whispered, his eyes nearly glowing as he lifted his head to stare toward the front of the bakery. "Arai, bad."

Roy's ears were at least as good as his nose. "How is it bad?" Arai whispered back, but Roy only shook his head.

"Bad," he repeated, feet shuffling restlessly as he swayed back and forth. "Bad."

Arai wanted to press him further, but Roy's eyes were starting to look wild and before he could figure how to ask without setting him off, the doorbell tinkled again, and Roy relaxed. Without another word, he turned and began shelving bags again, his previous agitation only betrayed by the tense set of his shoulders.

Fuji poked his head through the doorway. "All right back here?" he asked, as though nothing had happened. Arai was pretty sure it was only for their benefit; Fuji's hands were whiteknuckle tight in their grip on his apron, and the edge of his serene smile was strained.

"Y-yeah," he muttered, casting a quick look over his shoulder at Roy. "Yeah, we're okay."

Fuji nodded slowly, his smile fading. "Good. Sorry if we frightened you. We get a few visitors from time to time who are... less than savory. It's best if you stay out of their way."

And that was fine with Arai. Even if he was burning with curiosity, he'd long known that some questions he really didn't want answered, and he had a feeling that this was one he'd be a lot safer not knowing.

***

When Fuji headed back to the kitchen, Arai left Roy to his shelving, and emerged from the storeroom cautiously, just in time to catch Momo marching back toward him, scowling dark as a thundercloud at the floor and jerking off his apron.

"Those dumb sonsabitches, I swear one a these days I'm gonna lose my cool...."  
Arai flattened himself against the wall as the man stormed past, not even seeing him until Fuji gave a warning cough from the kitchen doorway.  
"Momo..." he let it trail off, and Momo drew up short, blinking between him and Arai.

"Oh hey kid, didn't even see ya there. You alright?"  
Arai could've asked the same thing; in fact he really kinda wanted to, but didn't want to risk riling Momo up any further. He'd known more than one guy who hid a sharp temper behind their easygoing manner, and he didn't care to take any chances.

"Right as rain," he answered instead. "Anything I can help out with?

Momo sighed, and his scowl briefly resurfaced, as he looked off toward the storefront. "Nah. Not just yet. I'm gonna haul the trash out. How 'bout you sit tight with Fuji for a bit, an then we'll see about gettin' the delivery truck loaded up. I'll take you for a spin, how's that sound?"

"Suits me," said Arai. "Need a hand with the trash?"  
Momo shook his head, and gave Arai a stiff, edgy grin. "I'm good. Just gonna work off some extra energy."

From the kitchen, Fuji sighed. "Please be careful with our dumpster this time. Mr. Riley takes those dents personally."

"What the hell, it's a dumpster. I'll take him some cookies to make up for it," Momo called back, his grin looking a little more natural. With a tight flick of the wrist, he tossed his apron at the nearest wall hook--where it caught and hung, to Arai's amazement--and then strode off to start collecting the trash.

Feeling a bit at loose ends, like the whole morning's rhythm had been thrown off-kilter, Arai crept into the kitchen, where Fuji was swiftly dusting a tray of donuts with powdered sugar.

"Can I--uh--lend a hand with anything?"  
"Ah, grab me five of those boxes, and line them with some wax paper, please?" Intent on the sugar dusting, Fuji pointed with his elbow toward a stack of white cardboard boxes, and a big hanging roll of wax paper on the nearby wall.

Arai quickly followed instructions, and then brought the boxes in a stack over to the long wooden table in the middle of the kitchen, where Fuji was working. "Here's okay?"

"Just fine," Fuji nodded. He showed Arai how to stack the bottom row of donuts in, put in a layer of tissue, and then carefully set the next row on top, so the frosting didn't smudge. Once Arai got the idea, he set about filling the five boxes according to the order sheet Fuji gave him, while Fuji expertly bagged loaves of bread, and stacked them in the delivery crates.

It didn't take a genius to realize that Fuji was working off his tension just like Momo was, only where Momo was hitting every trash can like he had a personal vendetta against it, with big sweeping motions and grunts of effort, Fuji's work was tight, fast, and brutally precise. He attacked a pan of something yellow and sweet-smelling with a long sharp knife, and in a few flashes of steel, he had two dozen lemon squares, clean and perfect, for Arai to box up.

Once the knife was safely off in a pan to soak, Arai ventured to ask, "So you do this much baking every day? All by yourself?"

"Every day except Saturdays and holidays," Fuji answered.  
"The bakery's open Sunday?"  
"No, but Mr. Haninozuka likes a little something on Sunday afternoons. And I usually do a little something just for myself. Try out a new recipe, or just experiment."

He seemed to relax a little; Arai saw a shadow of his usual smile come back, when he mentioned his Sunday baking, so he figured it was a good topic to go on with.

"Is that what you always wanted to do, be a baker?"  
"Mmm, not always. It was just a hobby for a long time, until someone--a good friend--told me I should make a living at it."

For just a second, his smile went sort of soft and a little melancholy, and Arai figured it was a special memory, maybe. And then the look brightened, to the same mild expression he usually wore, and he tilted his head and regarded Arai.

"So, think you like it here so far?"  
"Oh yeah, it's great," said Arai, while in the back of his mind, he was realizing two things. That Fuji was cleverly redirecting the subject, and that Fuji's usual serene smile was not exactly his real smile. Somehow, Arai just knew in that moment, that there was more to the man than he ever let on to others.

It wasn't particularly useful knowledge, it was just there, and Arai filed it away, while he told Fuji about his impressions of the morning. When he got to the part about the paper boy, Echizen, Fuji smiled broadly and shook his head.

"The only reason he took that job, was to escape his father, you know."

Arai frowned. "His dad's a bad guy?"  
"No, no, he's perfectly fine. He's immensely gifted, just like Echizen, and a bit--hm--eccentric? I think it's a case of the house being too small for the pair of them."

"Why doesn't he go to school, then, if he wants time out?"  
"School would interfere with his tennis, so he has a private tutor."

"Tennis?" Arai asked, surprised.  
"Momo didn't mention it? Oh yes, our Echizen is destined for greatness one day. He's won the Junior National Championship twice now, and his father has his sights on making him a pro, before much longer."

"No kidding." Without even knowing it, Arai had met his first real live celebrity. And he was a paperboy, to boot.

"Stick around," Fuji told him, with a playful spark to his smile. "You'll meet all sorts of interesting people around here."

Arai was all set to find out who else he meant, but then Momo came tromping back in, looking out of breath, but not at all mad anymore. Whatever he'd done to the dumpster, it seemed to've helped him out.

"How we doin' on those orders? Ready to load up yet?"

"Go ahead, I just have these Napoleans to box up," Fuji told him.

From the storeroom doorway, came an anxious hmming, and Arai looked over to spot Roy, patting nervous hands down the front of his apron.  
"Go?" he asked plaintively, and Arai hurried over to explain.

"I'm gonna go help Momo for awhile, but I'll come back, okay? You stay and help Fuji, got it?"  
"Stay?" Roy frowned, edging closer to Arai.  
"Yeah, you stay here, and I'll come back later."

Every time Arai had to go somewhere and leave Roy behind, they had this same conversation. Roy always got anxious about Arai going, even though Arai had always come back. He couldn't seem to get the idea that going wasn't forever, or maybe it was just that he had trouble keeping track of now and later. Either way, it upset him, and Arai hated to do that. But they couldn't be stuck together all the time, especially in a job like this, where they had different responsibilities.

"Arai go," said Roy, taking another shuffling step toward him, clutching at his apron now.  
"That's right. And I'll come back too. You wait and see, okay?"

He kept his voice calm and patient, but inwardly he was begging Roy to understand, and not make a big scene in front of their new bosses, who'd probably had enough of scenes for one day.

"Neh, he doesn't have to stay here," Fuji put in quietly. "If he needs to stay with you, that's all right."  
"Yeah, we got room in the truck. I'll get him a crate to sit on, and he can ride in back."

"Thanks," Arai sighed. "That's really nice. But he uh, gets carsick sometimes.". Carsickness was rare, to tell the truth; generally Roy panicked at being in a confined moving vehicle, long before he got sick. And Arai really didn't think he'd be at all happy in the back of the bakery truck, for an unknown length of time.

"Aw, that's a drag," Momo sympathized. "I got a cousin who gets carsick. He's awful on vacations."

Arai was starting to feel a little sick, himself. Here they were, working for the two nicest guys in the world, and first he busted their dishes, and now Roy was getting spooked and throwing a hitch in their schedule. And still, they were nice about it.

*Okay, think,* he told himself firmly. There had to be a way around this. He couldn't ever be mad at Roy; Roy didn't have any choice about the way he was, and the reason he clung to Arai was because he needed him, trusted him with his life. But somehow, if they were to get along here, Roy would have to learn to trust Arai, even when Arai wasn't around.


	6. Chapter 6

With Roy humming his anxiety, and Fuji and Momo waiting with more patience than he'd ever been afforded his whole life, Arai felt nearly overwhelmed. He couldn't afford to blow this, not now, not when things were looking so good for them. If only Roy could understand that Arai wasn't going to run out on him, that his going out wasn't the end. He shoved his hands in his pockets, to hide their shaking, and that's when it came to him...

Soft wool met the fingers of his right hand; the thin, worn scarf that had been given to him years ago, by a kind old woman he'd done some yardwork for. It was ratty with age, but thin as it was it was indispensable on chilly nights, nearly as important as his coat. Drawing it out, he walked over to Roy and draped it around his neck.

"I'll be back," he promised. "You know I wouldn't leave you. You'll hold my scarf for me, right?"

His friend plucked at the ends of the scarf, nostrils flaring as he sucked in quick, shallow little breaths. "Arai?" Roy said uncertainly, but the frightened edge was leaving his voice. "Cold?"

"Nah, I won't be cold. But Roy, I need you to help Fuji while I'm gone. And when I get back, you can give me the scarf back. Okay?"

Roy held the ragged length of wool up to his nose. "Arai, back?" he repeated, and Arai sighed.

"Yeah. I'll be back soon. Help Fuji."

Fuji nodded, moving up beside Roy and giving him the gentlest of smiles. "I have something for you to do that'll be fun," he said, taking the other man's arm and leading him toward the counter. "It can be a surprise for Arai, when he gets back..." His voice trailed off into an indistinct murmur as he drew Roy away.

Absorbed in watching Roy, who was starting to smile tentatively back at Fuji, Arai startled when Momo nudged his shoulder. "Better do this while he's distracted, yeah?" Arai nodded, and with a final glance at Roy followed Momo out the back where the delivery truck waited.

The delivery route proved to be fascinating, not least of all because of Momo's continuous prattle of information. The man really did know everything about the town, or so it seemed to Arai, who listened with wide-eyed fascination to stories about old Hito, the man who first opened the corner grocery (three boxes of doughnuts, and a dozen long loaves of bread), Ms. Yuuko, the eccentric matron who ran the curio shop (half a dozen ladyfingers, and an angel food cake), Jean Havoc, the wheelchair-bound owner of the general store, who'd been crippled in the war (a loaf of sourdough, and an eclair on the house). Somehow Momo had it timed so that he'd pull up at their destination just as he concluded each tale, and Arai almost felt as though he knew the bakery's patrons when he brought in their deliveries. It occurred to him, that maybe this was Momo's plan all along.

Only one place didn't receive an extended explanation. Momo was silent as he parked the truck at the rear of what appeared to be a small, nondescript office. He was trying hard to appear impassive, but Arai caught the hint of a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. Noticing Arai's attention on him, Momo quickly tossed off a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes, nodding at the building's back door.

"Friend of Fuji's," he explained. "Last stop of the morning."

Arai took the remaining box from the back of the truck. "Who do I ask for?" he inquired.

A shadow seemed to pass over Momo's face. "His name's Tezuka," he replied. "And you're not to take his money. Fuji won't hear of it." His expression seemed to indicate that he felt otherwise, but Arai wisely decided against asking why. The tension in the air was nearly palpable now, and hopped out of the truck with guilty relief.

The door opened when he knocked, revealing a tall man with disheveled hair and glasses and a decidedly confused look on his face as he took in his visitor. "Can I help you?" he asked in a soft, pleasant baritone.

"I have a delivery for Tezuka," Arai told him, noting the way the man's eyes flicked to the truck parked nearby. A nearly inaudible sigh left the man, who nodded politely in Momo's direction before turning back to Arai.

"I'm Tezuka," he said, taking the box Arai held out. "I don't suppose Fuji will let me pay him this time?"

Arai shook his head. "I was told not to accept any money, sir."

Tezuka's expression didn't change, but Arai could sense the frown he didn't show. "I suppose I'll need to talk to him," he murmured, then gave Arai a slight smile. "Thank you, and please extend my thanks to Fuji."

"Yes sir." Arai tipped his cap to the man before jogging back to where Momo was glowering at the steering wheel. As soon as Arai had his seatbelt on, Momo threw the truck into gear and pulled away, still looking stormy.

They drove back to the bakery in silence, Momo fuming, while Arai watched the scenery crawl past his window. Riding in a car or truck was a rare treat; he loved to be able to see so much of a place, without having to slog through it on sore feet. The town was bigger than he'd first thought when he and Roy arrived, and he took in the sights greedily as they drove past.

By the time they got back, Momo was his old self again, grinning and cracking jokes and teasing Arai goodnaturedly. And so when they went inside, Arai was smiling when Roy met them in the doorway to the kitchen, still wearing the scarf and dusted white with flouring from his shoulders to his knees. Making delighted sounds, Roy bounded over to him muttering, "Back, back," and Arai laughed, patting him on the arm.

"Of course I came back," he told him, and Roy hummed with pleasure. As usual, Arai felt a mixture of satisfaction and sorrow at the joy Roy took in seeing him returned. It was a reminder of how lonely the man must have been before Arai found him, a hint of previous abandonments, and he silently promised himself once again that he'd never do that to his friend.

"He's been a good helper," Fuji said, poking his head around the corner, and Roy beamed. Fixing Arai with a knowing smile, he added quietly, "He was fine. As long as he was busy, he barely knew you were gone."

Gratitude for Fuji's sensitivity washed over Arai, but before he could thank him, Roy was panting, "Surprise, surprise!" and jiggling like a hyper child in his face. Fuji laughed.

"After lunch," he told the excited man with a wink, and Roy nodded in agreement.

"Made cookies," he said in a conspiratorial whisper. "Surprise."

Momo busted out in loud guffaws, and even Fuji couldn't contain a chuckle. Arai grinned broadly; Roy's happiness was infectious. "Yeah," he agreed. "That's gonna be a great surprise."

***

Toward late afternoon, in the midst of cleanup, Arai chanced across the morning's newspaper, left on the table. Momo told him he could go ahead and throw it out, but Arai asked whether he might hang on to it.

"Me and Roy, we like to check out the funny papers," he said, grinning, and Momo told him to help himself, then.

And it was true, that he liked the comics, and always read them to Roy when they had the chance, but a free clean newspaper was valuable for more than that. For one thing, they made good insulation, when you stuffed them into trouser legs and coat sleeves. And cold as the nights were getting lately, that extra layer made a difference.

He knew if they were to stick around at the bakery, they couldn't camp on the roof forever. He figured Saturday, when the place was closed, they could start scouting around for better shelter. An abandoned building somewhere, or maybe one of those shacks down by the railroad. Getting a spot in a boarding house, like Momo stayed in, that would be aces. But those cost money, and Fuji hadn't mentioned anything about wages so far.

Not that Arai meant to bring it up, mind. Not when the guy was already giving them two delicious meals a day, and when he and Momo were treating them both nicer than anybody had so far. That alone was worth every bit of the work him and Roy put in, and Arai wasn't about to spoil the deal by asking for money on top of that.

The way he saw it, they'd just keep looking out for themselves, lay low on the roof as long as they could, and do their best not to draw attention to themselves, or make trouble for anybody. That policy had done them all right so far, and Arai didn't see any reason to change it.

He was feeling pretty optimistic, tucking the newspaper on the shelf, under his cap, along with the little bag of extra cookies that Roy had helped make. They could stay a little warmer tonight, and they had cookies to snack on before sacking out. Compared to the shape they'd been in a couple days ago, this was practically the lap of luxury.

With a satisfied smile, he turned around to get on with the cleanup, and about ran smack into Mr. Morinozuka, who'd just appeared, tall and silent and so incredibly _there_ , right behind him.

It was possibly one of the weirdest surprises of his life. He didn't jump, or flinch (or scream like a girl, thank God). He just had this one moment where he froze, saw Mr. Morinozuka looking down at him, and his smile went a little haywire--he couldn't stop it, couldn't rein it in--and his heart missed one beat, and then threw in several extra in to make up for it.

Then Mr. Morinozuka smiled back. This small, quiet, startlingly beautiful smile, like he didn't even know it, like he'd just discovered smiling for the first time ever. And Arai was--for that one weird moment--totally blinded by it.

"Good afternoon," the man said, with a slight bow. Arai realized, in a sudden epiphany, that yeah, it really was, the most perfect afternoon.

"H-hi," he got out. There were manners about things like this, right? Things you were supposed to say to the friends of your bosses' boss. Or something. But damned if he could look Mr. Morinozuka in the eye and remember them. His eyes looked so different, when he smiled. "How um....how've you been?"

"Very well, thank you. And you?"  
"Oh great, I'm, really great yeah, thanks." Now he was babbling, he knew it, he just couldn't help it. "You, I guess, wanna see Fuji, or Momo, yeah? Fuji's....the kitchen, I think. I'll um, tell him you're here? Okay."

Because Mr. Morinozuka had excellent manners, and had probably never experienced a single embarrassing moment in his whole life, he stayed perfectly calm in the face of Arai's brainless stammering. Which was really nice of him, Arai thought, stumbling backwards toward the kitchen (still smiling, he couldn't help that either, it seemed) to find Fuji, and then maybe hide under the sink until he got a grip on himself.

He got through the door of the kitchen, and propped himself back against the wall, for the extra support.  
"Say, Fuji? Mr. Morinozuka just, um, came in."

"Good timing," noted Fuji, who was slipping a baking pan into the sink, and drying his hands. "Thanks." He glanced up at Arai, and then did a double-take.  
"My goodness, you're all flushed. You feeling okay?"

Arai jumped away from the wall, like it had tried to bite him. "Oh no, I'm fine! No problems here. I should see if Roy needs help. Or Momo." He made a few stiff-legged strides across the kitchen, before common sense caught up to him. "Unless you need help? Sorry."

Fuji cocked his head, looking Arai over thoughtfully. "Why don't you sit and take a break for a bit, hm? You've been going non-stop since lunch. I'll see if the gentlemen will join us for some tea."

Arai didn't quite have the faculties to resist being steered off to the table, and then Fuji was heading out to greet Mr. Morinozuka himself.

A minute or so later he was back, with some deep secret amusement curling the corners of his mouth, even as he sighed aloud.

"Ah, poor Mr. Haninozuka is in meetings all day again. We won't get a visit with him today. And Mr. Morinozuka has to hurry back to him. What a shame, neh?"

"Hm." Arai agreed it was a shame, though secretly he was grateful there would be no further witnesses to his temporary insanity of the last few minutes.

"Although Mr. Morinozuka did look happier for coming down here." Maybe it was just his imagination, but Arai would swear he heard a mischief in Fuji's tone just then. However the man's expression gave nothing away, so he couldn't be sure. "Maybe visiting us has improved his day a little. That would be nice, don't you think?"

Arai agreed, in as few words as possible, that it would. Though mostly, he was glad he'd managed to slip away from the situation, and Mr. Morinozuka's stunning smile, before going to pieces and making a complete ass of himself.

He would never be entirely certain, but he strongly suspected Fuji might have pulled a fast one on him, after that.

He had just gotten Mr. Haninozuka's cake boxed up to take to the front, when his elbow suddenly struck a box of recipe cards off the counter, sending them scattering across the floor.

"Oh drat, clumsy me. Arai, I'm dreadfully sorry, but could you be a help and carry Mr. Haninozuka's cake out for Mr. Morinozuka?" Fuji was already on his knees, gathering the recipe cards (and not looking terribly put out about it, really), and Arai finally understood what people meant when they talked about being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

He jumped up to comply, because hesitation was out of the question. Hesitating lost jobs. But as he carefully lifted the cake box and turned for the front, he had a certain feeling he was going to his doom.

This time he kept his eyes on the box, paid attention to his steps, because he'd sooner throw himself under a moving train than drop Mr. Haninozuka's raspberry cheesecake. He tried to remember how normal people delivered cakes, how he'd been giving stuff to perfect strangers all day.

The problem was, none of those strangers had a smile like Mr. Morinozuka. Nobody on earth had ever smiled at him like that, and Arai wasn't sure he could withstand another round of it so soon.

He kept his eyes down, handing the cake over, but then worried that might seem rude, he looked up at the knot on Mr. Morinozuka's blue silk tie. It was a very fine tie. The knot, of course, was perfect.

"Ah, too bad Mr. Haninozuka couldn't come today," he said, in case Fuji hadn't. "I enjoyed um, meeting him, yesterday. And you too, sir. I uh, hope you can make it back soon."

"Thank you." The tie held still for a moment, then Mr. Morinozuka added, "Your hand, it's okay today?"

"It's fine, yeah. Didn't even notice it all day." Arai ducked his head, eyed the tops of his boots, fully aware that he was blushing like anything. "Thanks again. You did a real nice job. Y'know, fixing it up. Thank you."

"Hm," said Mr. Morinozuka. And then there came one of those dreadful bottomless silences where Arai had no idea what else to say, which usually meant he was about to start babbling something completely inane, just to break the quiet.

But then Mr. Morinozuka salvaged the situation, by taking a breath and nodding. "Mitsukuni is waiting. See you tomorrow?"

Was he asking, Arai wondered? Was it just one of those casual comments people were always throwing out there, or was he really checking that Arai would be around tomorrow?

But that was too crazy. Surely he was just being polite.  
"Sure, you bet," Arai answered, as casually as he could. "Take care, yeah? Say hi to Mr. Haninozuka for us."

"I will." And to Arai's not-quite relief, Mr. Morinozuka was heading off, and Arai could sort of breathe again.

**

"Ah, did I miss seeing Mr. Morinozuka off?"

This time, Arai did jump, and he whirled around to see Fuji standing in the doorway to the kitchen, tidy stack of recipe cards in his hand and a glimmer in those barely-seen eyes that seemed far more amused that regretful. Although with Fuji, it was hard to tell at the best of times, and certainly not when one's heart was pounding like a racehorse coming down the backstretch.

"Uh, yeah, just missed him," Arai stammered, feeling his face going red. "But, uh, he said he'd see m- us tomorrow."

Fuji's smile stretched a little wider. "Did he now?" he murmured, and slipped back into the kitchen, leaving Arai standing foolishly by himself, and wondering why his knees suddenly felt as though they'd gone to water.

But he didn't have time to examine it; Momo called him from the back, and he was soon involved in helping the other man inventory their supplies ahead of the weekly shopping trip scheduled for the next day. "Wednesdays are when we restock, unless we get unexpected orders," Momo explained, as they counted tins of cinnamon and allspice, nutmeg and anise. "Not as many deliveries, so there's usually time. We'll drop off our list with Hito when we bring him his bread, and as long as he ain't too busy, he'll usually have most of it all together by the time we swing back by."

Arai nodded, thinking that Roy would be pleased. Tedious though it was, the man seemed to honestly enjoy stacking and shelving, nearly as much as he liked sweeping. But his own anticipation of another ride in the truck made Arai grin privately, and he couldn't help but wonder briefly if it would ever get old. 

It came as a mild shock as Arai realized that he was looking at things as though they would be staying here long enough for him to actually become accustomed to things like car rides. He'd never considered staying anywhere; he and Roy had never found any place that had welcomed them for more than a couple of days, if that. It was as though they carried some mark that clearly branded them outsiders. To think that things here could be permanent...

But Arai pulled that train of thought up short. You're getting ahead of yourself, he admonished mentally. Find a place you like, and you're already getting cozy, like it's a home. Don't forget, you don't have a home.

The words echoed uncomfortably in his mind, reflected and reinforced through a myriad of experiences recent and not so recent. A prickling sensation started in the corners of his eyes, but Arai put a stop to that, too. Get over it. Move on.

"Hey kid. You okay?"

Arai glanced up to see Momo's head cocked toward him, curiosity wrinkling his brow. The clipboard in his hand bounced up and down as he studied Arai, who gulped hard in response and summoned his best grin.

"Y-yeah, swell. Just got a bit of flour stuck in my throat, I think." He coughed a couple times for verisimilitude, smiled apologetically. "Maybe I oughta get a drink of water..."

Arai had learned a long time ago how to beat a hasty retreat, and yet not make it look as though he were fleeing, and he did so now. Out of the storeroom and into the kitchen, oddly bare except for Roy, sweeping industriously. He looked up as Arai entered, chuffing a soft greeting as he dragged the broom back and forth. Arai smiled back at him, wondering where Fuji was even as he was relieved to find the kitchen empty of the baker.

Getting his glass of water, he sipped at it while he watched Roy work. Humming absently, the other man went through the repetitive motions with absolute contentment, more comfortable in the bakery than Arai could recall seeing him before. Roy was settling in too, he thought, and wondered how it was going to feel, for both of them, when they finally were forced to move on.

A quiet murmur of voices interrupted his reverie, coming from the front of the store, and Arai's eyebrows drew together. It didn't sound like a customer; it was soft, almost intimate, and had he thought about it a bit longer, he almost certainly would have retreated back to the storeroom and Momo instead of peeking out through the curtain to see what was afoot.

Fuji was talking to another man in front of the bakery counter, his back to the kitchen. He stood very close to him, almost touching, although his hands were clenched very tightly in his apron. But although his voice carried the same soft lilt it always did, pleasant and slightly caressing, Arai somehow knew right away that his employer was upset.

The man he faced muttered something back, his own voice pitched low. Arai recognized the voice right off- Fuji's friend, Tezuka, and now faced with the scene before him, he wondered if he should have told Fuji that Tezuka had wanted to talk to him. 

But intuition quickly informed him that he had no place in this. Tezuka shook his head in response to something Fuji said, and Arai caught a momentary glimpse of his eyes, regretful, but determined. Fuji's voice fluted again, the words indistinct and pleading, and the taller man shook his head once more. He pressed something into Fuji's hand, then stepped back as the baker reached out as though to touch his arm. "I'll see you," he said quietly, and turned for the door, leaving Fuji standing with one fist clenched tight, his other hand falling to his side. The bell chimed, and Arai saw Tezuka's tall frame hunch slightly as he strode away quickly down the sidewalk.

Fuji followed him to the door, but not outside. Instead he watched his back through the glass, hands caught up in his apron, for once looking not imperturbable and amused, but unsettlingly fragile.

Afraid of being noticed, and feeling more than a little guilty for having witnessed the scene, Arai crept backwards into the kitchen, taking care not to make a sound. Placing his glass in the sink, he patted Roy's arm as he passed nn the way back to the storeroom, as much for his own comfort as to reassure his friend, and wished with all his heart that he could have remained ignorant of Fuji's pain.


	7. Chapter 7

Arai's last task of the day was to help Momo run the Elric's daily order down the block. Recalling that it had taken two people the day before as well, Arai remarked that those Elrics must have a lot of mouths to feed.

Inexplicably, Momo just about busted a gut laughing.

"You'd think that, but it's just the two of 'em. That Ed--he'd be the older one--got an appetite like a hippo. Damndest thing you ever saw," Momo chuckled.

"He's a big guy, then?" Arai guessed, and Momo laughed some more.  
"Not hardly. But listen, don't go nowhere near his height, less you want your face rearranged. Ed's got a real short-guy complex, y'know? Temper like a damn badger, too."

It turned out that old saying, 'Forewarned is forearmed,' was true in this case, and Arai was glad Momo had prepared him. When they reached the apothecary with the order, they were met straight off with the noise of a full-fledged rant, roaring out from somewhere in the back.

"...have to do everything my goddamn self? I put the order in, spell it out for the morons in plain English, and I tell them, half a milliliter, and still they fuck it up!"

"But we can dilute, Brother," answered a voice which sounded well-practiced in patience. "They doubled the order at a better price, so really we're ahead."

"Yeah, except it's gonna take twice the time to fix their fuckup, and if you ain't noticed, we're a little short on that."

"It'll be fine. Listen, I think Momo's here, you good for a few minutes?"

"M'fine Al, jeez, quit worryin'."

There came a heavy sigh, and then a smiling young man came out to the front counter to greet them.

"Hey, sorry you had to wait, got tangled up in a stock problem."

"No worries, Mr. Elric," Momo grinned back. "Figured you were stuck here with something, since you hadn't dropped in yet."

"Hey Al, ask him if he got them onion rolls this time," yelled the voice from the next room.  
"Got half a dozen," Momo hollered back. "How you doin' today, pal? Givin em hell like always?"

"Gettin' ready to put my foot up some asses, that's how I'm doin'," the voice yelled back, as Al shook his head.

"Don't encourage him, he's been spoiling for a fight all day." But the man was smiling as he spoke, and while Arai was already intimidated by the older Elric brother, sight unseen, he had a good feeling about Alphonse, with his tousled sandy hair and good-natured manner.

"Say, you didn't meet our new guy yet," said Momo, before introducing Arai, and Al beamed.

"Really nice to meet you, glad Fuji and Momo got some help, finally."  
"Yeah, him and Roy--he's back at the shop--just showed up yesterday. Pair of work horses, I'll tell you what," Momo mentioned, and Arai, feeling embarrassed by the praise, gave a smile and a little shrug.

"It's nothin, we're real glad for a chance to work. Can we put these boxes somewhere for you, Mr. Elric?"  
"Oh, sorry, yeah. You mind bringing them to the back?"  
"Wherever you need 'em, sir," said Arai, with his best 'At Your Service' grin.

"Onion rollllls," growled the voice from the next room, giving Arai the impression that he was entering a hungry lion's den. "Al, I'm starving here."

"You had lunch, Brother, I witnessed it," Al singsonged back, with a little wink inviting Arai to witness his suffering. "I'm sure you can survive a few minutes more."

Momo chuckled under his breath, and Arai had a strong feeling that Alphonse Elric was a genuinely good guy, like Momo and Fuji. His brother might be an ogre, but he thought Al might be someone trustworthy. He'd been learning over months of travel, to judge people according to whether Roy would like them. He himself had always wanted to trust people automatically, often enough to his misfortune. But he liked to think that relying on Roy's instincts had gradually started improving his own.

And he had a feeling that Roy would probably like Al.

The apothecary store was built on the same floor plan as the bakery, he noted, just laid out a bit differently. Behind the counter was a room, much like the room between the kitchen and storefront at Fuji and Momo's, where they ate meals. Only here there was a long table, with scales and calipers and rows of glass beakers, backed by tall glass-fronted shelves full of jars and boxes.

In place of the kitchen was a combination laboratory and library; shelves full of countless books, and more long tables, covered in more beakers, and mysterious scientific instruments, just like in that movie he'd seen one time, where the mad doctor built a monster out of parts of dead people, and brought it to life.

Though unlike that movie (which had scared the bejeezus out of Arai, even though he felt sorry for the monster guy at the end), the lab room wasn't at all spooky. It was chaotic, to his eye, but spotlessly clean and well-lit.

"Sorry for the mess," sighed Al, leading them over to some counter space near a giant steel sink. "Brother has trouble with the stairs right now, so we've been using half the room for our kitchen."

He shoved aside a Bunsen burner, and a microscope, to make space for the bakery boxes, and as Momo and Arai unloaded, Arai asked, "So you live upstairs from here?"

"Yeah, it's a nice little apartment, like Fuji's," Al provided. "I make Brother leave his books down here, though. Otherwise we wouldn't have room to turn around."

Arai blinked. "Fuji lives over the bakery?" It hadn't occurred to him that there was living space over the bakery. He'd assumed Fuji lived in a boarding house, like Momo.

It might have been a bad question to ask, though, judging by the sour expression Momo made, and the cautious sidelong look that Al quickly shot him, before looking off.  
"Yeah, he likes it there. Likes bein' able to cook when the mood strikes him. Likes havin' his space, he says."

"Oh. Well that's handy," Arai said, making a mental note to be quiet as possible when he and Roy climbed up on the roof, and to also be wary of this apparently touchy subject with Momo.

It seemed Momo didn't much agree with a few of Fuji's choices, he thought, recalling the delivery to that man, Tezuka, and Fuji's distress over Tezuka's later visit.  
Maybe this was part of the same problem.

And even though Fuji and Momo's personal problems were none of his business to speculate about, Arai couldn't help wondering, as he followed Momo back to the bakery, what that problem might be.

Admittedly, it was a slightly selfish worry on his part. Fuji and Momo seemed like good friends, good business partners, and individually they were decent, kind people. But if something were to come between them, what would that mean for the bakery? What would it mean for Arai and Roy's prospects?

You couldn't depend on other people. Arai had learned this over and over. He could depend on Roy to some extent, because Roy depended equally on him. There wasn't anybody or any thing that Roy could abandon him for. Not a nice thing to think about, but it was true.

But other people, people who had more choices in life, they weren't so reliable. Arai had to be careful not to get too attached to people and situations. It could all go away at any moment. He knew that.

If they could just get on their feet, him and Roy. If they could just get to a place where they didn't have to depend on others' help, then he could stop worrying.

Trouble was, just about everybody in the world was saying that right now. And like it or not, him and Roy really needed the help Fuji and Momo offered. He just had to hope that nothing went wrong for them; at least while he and Roy were there. If he knew some way to insure that, he would do it. Not least of all because they were decent guys, who'd already done much for him, asking very little in return.

He should think on it, he decided. Keep his eyes and ears open, as the saying went. And be careful going up that fire escape tonight, too.

**

Upon returning to the bakery, Arai found Roy waiting at the back door, the tatty old scarf still around his neck, and the newspaper and bag of cookies in hand. Fuji smiled apologetically at him over Roy's shoulder, and Arai was somewhat surprised to see that the baker was wearing a long brown coat.

"Don't worry about the cleanup tonight," he told Arai. "Roy and I got things pretty well tidied before you got back. The store is already closed up; I was just waiting for you and Momo to get back before I ran out for a while."

Arai was about to reply, but Momo shouldered past him, his face dark. "Fuji..." he began, and the other man shook his head fiercely.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said in a tight voice.

Uneasiness curled in Arai's belly. Was their lucky break going sour already? On the walk back, he'd already decided to do everything he could to ensure that Momo and Fuji stayed happy and on good terms, but this was too soon. He didn't even understand what was happening in front of him; how could he help that? And as much as he wanted his new friends to stay happy, even more he wanted the good situation he and Roy had landed in to last, at least a little longer. 

Beside him, Roy had picked up on the tension and started to whine softly in his throat. He shuffled closer, until his shoulder was butting up against Arai's, leaning in close for comfort. Fuji seemed to notice, dropping the confrontational stance he'd adopted while facing Momo and relaxing enough to give Roy a warm smile.

"How about sausages for breakfast tomorrow?" he asked cheerfully. "They're Momo's favorite, I bet you'd like them too." Behind him, Momo shook his head, scowling at the ground.

Roy paused in his anxious humming to peer at Fuji with wide, fearful eyes. He was too sensitive to emotions around him to put on a good front, so it was Arai's job to do it for him. "That sounds swell," he piped up, drawing another smile from Fuji.

"Excellent. It's decided then." He shooed them all out ahead of him, Roy and Arai stepping lively while Momo slouched reluctantly. Locking the door behind him, Fuji gave them all a cheery wave before hurrying off down the alley, heading for the street. Momo watched him go, his expression stormy, but his face lightened a little when he saw Arai watching him.

"Eh," he said, cheeks pinking in what Arai figured was embarrassment. "Sorry you had to see that. Sometimes he's just so..." He stopped himself, then shook his head. "Fuji's a damn smart fellow," he went on, "but sometimes he makes some dumb choices. Makes me worry about him."

"It's all right," he assured them, obviously picking up on their discomfort. "Spats like that don't mean nothin'. Tomorrow morning, it'll be like it never even happened. Reckon he feels bad about it too, offering to make sausages. Meat's dear, these days."

"We don't want to be an imposition," Arai started to say, but Momo waved him off.

"You ain't. Trust me. You and Roy here, you guys are nothing but a help to us. Don't ask for nothin', put in an honest day's work. Can't believe no one's snatched you two up before now." He grinned at them, his usual good humor overwhelming the bleak expression he'd worn. "Their loss, our gain, huh kid?"

It was easier to smile back, seeing the familiar spark of good humor in Momo's eyes. "You bet," he replied. "Me and Roy, we couldn't be happier to be here."

Momo nodded. "Suits me fine, an' Fuji too. He's tickled as hell to have you guys here." He glanced up at the darkening sky, then back to Arai and Roy. "It's getting on. I'd best get on myself, if I'm gonna get my dinner tonight." A thought seemed to occur to him, and he leveled a piercing look at Arai. "You two got somewhere to go?"

Arai thought of the rooftop (Fuji's rooftop), and the bag of cookies, and all the help Fuji and Momo had already given them. "Sure thing," he answered, giving a decisive nod. "We're all set."

Momo weighed that, shrugged. "Well, best get on," he said, with another glance upward. "Looks like rain."

"Yep. See you tomorrow!" Arai grabbed Roy's arm and steered him down the alley, opposite the direction that Momo sauntered. He waited until the older man had turned the corner out onto the street before stopping, and letting Roy's arm drop.

"Thought he'd caught us," he whispered, and Roy hummed agreement. "We'd better get up top, before Fuji gets home."

They returned to the back of the baker and Arai, heedful of Momo's warning about rain, paused long enough to rummage through the trash bins until he found a couple of large boxes. Handing one to Roy, they hurried up the fire escape, and as they climbed Arai explained to Roy about Fuji living atop the bakery, and how they needed to be extra careful. "Only for a few more days," he promised. "This weekend, we'll find some place better."

They broke open the boxes, forming them into makeshift blankets. They weren't great, but they didn't have tarps, and the cardboard would afford them at least a little protection if it started to rain before morning. They'd still end up wet, but a little water wouldn't kill them. 

Dividing up the cookies for an evening meal was a rare treat, and he and Roy devoured the food with gusto, both delighted with their turn in fortunes. They'd kept a job for two days now, and it looked like they'd be welcome longer. Today they'd had three meals, and tomorrow there would be meat for breakfast. It was almost decadent, the way they were living, and Arai would never have envisioned they'd have such luck. Even the worrisome events of the day seemed less urgent now, especially since Momo's reassurance. The constant wariness that was Arai's companion every bit as much as Roy felt as though it was fading by the hour.

Really, what could go wrong?


	8. Chapter 8

Arai may not have had Roy's uncanny mental clock, but he was positive he was being roused from sleep entirely too early this time.

"Whuzzah? Whatcha want, Roy?". Blearily, he shoved at the guy hovering over him, still making the nervous little noises that had awakened him.  
"Wet," Roy got out, through a racking shiver. "Wet, wet, wet."

Blinking his eyes into focus, Arai discovered that Roy had huddled over him, attempting to use his length of cardboard as a flimsy roof over the both of them. It wasn't much help against the pouring rain, though, and as Arai realized Roy was mostly getting drenched through, he struggled up in dismay.

"Aw jeez, Roy, I'm sorry. You shoulda woke me up sooner."  
"Sleepy," Roy explained, with another hard shiver, and Arai patted his shoulder clumsily.

"Awright, okay. We gotta get out of this." He was still too sleepy to think all that clearly, but he knew the first step to finding better shelter was getting down off this roof. "C'mon, let's get down and find an awning or something."

He cringed under the pelting rain, feeling his way carefully down the wet, pitched roof alongside Roy, who looked cold, unhappy, and just about drowned. He felt awful, knowing Roy had an excellent sense for coming weather, but had waited until it was a downpour, before troubling Arai from sleep, because he understood that Arai needed more sleep than he did.

"Sorry," muttered Roy, dragging their sodden boxes down to the fire escape. Arai armed his dripping hair out of his eyes, making out the ladder rungs in the darkness, and shook his head.

"It's okay, we'll find a good dry spot and hunker down, okay? I'm sorry you got all wet."

Roy just sighed, heavily.

By the time they reached the ground, Arai was awake enough to remember a derelict building he'd seen on his ride with Momo earlier, and led Roy off down the alley quickly. "It's just a block down, I think we might be able to squeeze in through the basement window," he explained.

Sure enough, after tapping a few low windows, they found one unfastened, and Roy squirmed through first, with considerably more grace than Arai, who just about went ass over teakettle, until Roy caught him, and righted him, muttering, "Oops-a-daisy."

Despite being thoroughly wet and shivering himself, Arai snickered softly into his sleeve, at the phrase. "You say the darndest stuff sometimes," he whispered. "Hey, you think anybody else is in here?"

To him, it was pitch dark, save for the dim light filtering through the open window, outlining Roy, who stood straight and alert for a few seconds.

He cocked his head, those strange eyes gleaming, and sniffed the air.

"Up," he whispered, pointing a finger at the low roof of the basement. "Sleeping."  
"Somebody sleeping upstairs?" Arai asked. "We gotta keep real quiet then. How 'bout down here?"

Roy turned a slow silent circle, just like he could see the room plain as day. Which, Arai reckoned, he probably could. Roy might have trouble dealing with the normal daytime world, but at night, in the dark, he was a genius.

"Rats," came the verdict on the basement, and Arai relaxed a little.  
"Good job," he said, patting Roy on the shoulder, and Roy made a faint satisfied sound. "Don't guess you see anything we can dry off with?"

"There," answered Roy, pointing off into the pitch blackness.  
"I can't see it, buddy, you gotta lead me there," Arai reminded him, and Roy nodded, and took Arai's hand, leading him carefully across the concrete floor.

Somewhere in the nothingness, they stopped, and Roy went down to a crouch, leading Arai down with him.  
"Bed," he whispered, drawing Arai's hand down to touch some rough fabric texture, and Arai felt around blindly, discovering a big pile of the stuff on the floor.

Ah, burlap sacks, he realized. "You're the best," he praised Roy. "That's a real good find. Let's borrow a couple of these and dry off, alright?"

He pulled up a sack from the pile, shaking it out, and felt Roy doing the same next to him, before stifling a sneeze. The sacks were dusty, and Arai had to breathe through his mouth to avoid sneezing, himself. They were scratchy, too, but beggars couldn't be choosers, and unless they wanted to freeze in their wet clothes, they'd have to put up with a little scratching.

Arai slipped out of his thin coat and shirt, thinking this really wasn't how he'd planned on getting a bath, and used one sack to wring the wet from his clothes, before shaking out another and hurriedly toweling off his hair, and then bundling it around him.

"You gettin' dried off okay?" he whispered to Roy, who was huffing and trying to keep his sneezing quiet, next to him.

"Cold," Roy whispered back, and Arai crawled closer, to try and help him.  
"Here, get those clothes off, you're gonna catch your death."  
Roy gave a whine of complaint, but let Arai tug his shirt over his head, and wrap a sack around his shoulders, and then Roy got his own sodden trousers off.

"Dry your hair off too," Arai urged, and with more soft grumpy sounds, Roy complied.

As best he could without seeing, Arai spread their wrung-out clothes flat on the floor, and then crawled onto the still-plentiful pile of sacks, and dragged several over him, telling Roy to do the same.

"It's like a nest," he mumbled sleepily, damp and itchy, and too tired to care.  
"For birds," Roy grumped back, and Arai couldn't help a little chuckle.  
"Yeah, but it ain't wet, right?". He reached out for where he thought Roy's head was, and ruffled his already tousled hair affectionately. "Hang in there. One a these days, we're gonna make good. Have a real roof over our heads, real beds to sleep in. It'll be fine."

"Home?" Roy said hoarsely, worming in deeper among the sacks.  
"Yeah, someplace to call home. Won't that be nice?"

Roy sighed his agreement, and yawned, and Arai did too.  
"Don't forget, five o'clock again, okay? We got a busy day helping Momo and Fuji tomorrow."

"Five," Roy agreed, and then shifted and pushed himself up a bit. "Fuji...". He trailed off into silence for a second, then asked, "Fuji mad?"

Knowing he was recalling the tense scene at closing time, Arai said, "Nah, he ain't mad at us. It's all right. I think he's....sad about something, though. But it's okay. We're gonna help him and Momo, so they'll be happy, get it? We'll be a big help for them, and everything will turn out good."

Of course he knew he couldn't promise that, but they had to try their best, regardless. Surely taking some of the work burden from Fuji and Momo's shoulders could help them work out the rest of their problems. Keeping a hopeful outlook was always a help, too. Sometimes people just needed to be reminded that things could always turn out better, and if nothing else, Arai was good at keeping up hope, and spreading it around.

Granted it was hard work in some cases, but Arai in his heart, believed that one way or another, hard honest effort always paid off, eventually. He couldn't let misfortunes drag him down, because hope was the only thing in the world that was free, and the only thing in the world he had enough of.

"It'll work out," he murmured to Roy, as he slipped into sleep. "Tomorrow's a whole new day."

"Sleep," Roy admonished him, in a soft slurry mumble, before sniffling and squirming in closer.

**

It seemed like only a matter of minutes before Arai was being shaken awake again. "'rai," Roy's voice rasped, close to his ear. "'rai, five. Five, 'rai."

Blinking muzzily into the darkness, Arai shifted, feeling sore and worn to the bone. The burlap sacks were warmer than the wet roof, but they were a poor cushion on the concrete, and they did little to insulate away the chill emanating from the floor. But he did his best to ignore the aching in his joints, forcing himself into motion and reminding himself that the bakery would be nice and warm, and breakfast would be waiting. It was enough to motivate him out of the scratchy nest they'd bedded in and get him fumbling for his clothes.

His shirt was mostly dry, but his pants were still uncomfortably damp. Arai tugged them on anyway; the warmth from his body would help dry them a bit more, and it wasn't like he had a choice anyway.

He was already dressed before he realized that Roy was still huddled on the sacks, clutching his shirt between his hands. "C'mon buddy," Arai coaxed, thinking his friend was tired from broken sleep. "Today won't be too bad, I'll bet, and there's food waiting."

The promise of food was nearly always enough to get Roy in motion, but the man just sat silently, fingers running along the damp seams of his clothing. Arai frowned, and knelt beside him to help him pull the shirt over his head. "Maybe you can take a nap later," he said, but Roy still didn't respond.

This close though, he could hear a faint wheeze with every breath Roy took, and the sound made his heart race with worry. No. Roy couldn't be getting sick. In all the time he'd known him, Roy had never had so much as a sniffle. Surely a little rain...

But it wasn't just a little rain. Guiltily, Arai realized he had no idea how long Roy had huddled over him, protecting him from the downpour while being soaked to the bone in the process. Which meant he'd probably had almost no sleep on top of that. And the sneezing... something in the basement hadn't sat well with him from the start...

And now Arai really was concerned. He slid the palm of his hand across his friend's forehead, but he couldn't tell that Roy was any hotter than usual. Maybe he really was just tired. Maybe getting him out of the basement, letting him take a short nap, would be all that he'd need to feel better.

"C'mon," he said again, dragging Roy's arm until he stood awkwardly. He found the worn dungarees Roy had shed last night and handed them to him. "Let's get you out of here."

"Out," Roy repeated in hoarse agreement, taking the clothes before bringing a swift hand up to muffle a cough.

The pounding rain from the night had slowed to a dismal, but thankfully light patter that stippled their clothing and forced them to a brisk trot from awning to awning. When they finally reached the soft light from the bakery, Arai let out a sigh of relief, grateful for respite from the drizzle. They were definitely going to have to work out some better arrangement. Neither one of them needed another cold, wet night.

Fuji greeted them with his usual warmth, while Momo grunted from the table, hands wrapped around his coffee mug as though there was salvation at the bottom. Arai tucked into the chair next to him, Roy following with hesitant steps. His head hung low, and he watched Arai fix his own coffee with a listless air.

Momo peered blearily across at the pair. "You look kinda like I feel," he muttered, and Arai gave him a half-grin.

"Bad night," he replied. "Rain kept us up."

"Aa, I know what you mean," Fuji commented, reappearing with a tray of sausages and thick slabs of fried bread. "Roofs like these, you hear everything through them. The rain just pounded all night, it kept me awake for hours."

Arai winced, but hid it behind his coffee. He hoped it was only the rain that woke Fuji, and not him and Roy stumbling for the ladder. But Fuji said nothing else about it as he served them, and the rest of the meal passed in silence. Arai ate with gusto, the meal warming him from the inside out, but Roy only picked at his breakfast, and there was still food left on his plate when Arai finally cleared the dishes away.

The rain ended up slowing down the bakery's trade, although the usual stream of regulars came through, complaining about the wet and spending longer shooting the breeze with Momo before braving the elements once more. Between customers Momo began teaching Arai the prices for the various breads and pastries, patiently correcting him when he couldn't recall and praising him when he did.

"It's a lot to remember," Momo told him. "Fuji about had fits, when I started. Couldn't remember nothin', spent all my time running back and forth and buggin' the hell outa him. Now, it's a snap. Just takes some time. You'll get it too."

Arai sure hoped so. Momo made it look easy, never having to check the big chalkboard, and easily rattling off the daily specials to anyone who dawdled over the pastry case.

Just after the midmorning rush had slowed to a trickle, Arai was wiping down the counter when Fuji poked his head through the curtain. "Arai," he said, in that soft, gentle voice. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Arai's blood froze. It was the tone of voice he'd heard, too many times in the past, and it was never good. It meant not simply a talk, but the Talk. The one that started out 'you've been a big help, but...' and ended with 'we don't need you anymore.' It generally coincided with some misstep one or the other of them had made, and since Arai had been busy helping Momo without a hitch, that meant Roy had messed up somehow. Quashing a brief, uncharacteristic flare of resentment, Arai turned stiffly and forced a smile. "Sure thing," he replied, and walked back to the kitchen on numb legs.

Wiping his hands on a towel, Fuji didn't look angry or even disappointed. But he did look concerned, his mouth curving into a frown. "Arai," he said, glancing back toward the storeroom, "I think something is wrong with Roy."

Had he finally noticed enough to comment on Roy's strangeness? Arai's heart was racing, trying to figure out how he could mitigate whatever Roy had done, just enough to keep their jobs. Fuji had seemed so tolerant and forgiving; surely he'd see that they needed the work...

Wait.

"Wrong?" he asked, following Fuji's gaze. In the doorway was the broom, looking as though it had simply been dropped and left. Arai sucked in a breath. "Where is he?"

Fuji led him back, past the broom and in among the shelves. It might have been the adrenaline, but Arai could suddenly hear rasping breaths, coming too fast to be right. Little jagged pants, punctuated every so often by a harsh, barking cough, but he still couldn't see Roy anywhere.

"Back here." Fuji beckoned to Arai, who hurried past him. Wedged between a rack of shelves and the wall, Roy crouched in a huddle, eyes glassy and staring blankly ahead. As the two crept closer he tilted his head, giving a quiet, half-hearted growl, but his unfocused gaze countered any impression of ferocity he might have tried to convey.

Shame flooded Arai, for thinking that Roy had screwed up, and alongside it came worry, prickling and painful. He'd never seen anyone ill like this before, least of all Roy. Little shivers of fear wormed their way across his skin as he stared at his ailing friend. How could he possibly help him? People died of illnesses sometimes, and even with the money he and Roy had earned, there was no way they'd be able to afford medicine, even if he'd any idea what to give Roy.

Worst of all, if Roy was so sick that he died... Arai would be alone. And he wasn't sure at all that he could handle that.

"I think we should call a doctor." Fuji's voice behind him startled Arai; he'd almost forgotten that the baker was there. 

"No," he blurted suddenly, almost as afraid of the suggestion as he was of Roy's sudden illness. "No, we can't, they'd do things to him..."

This was too close to the truth. Arai didn't want to tell Fuji these things, but Fuji was looking at him like he was insane for not wanting to help his friend, and Arai was helpless to explain. How could he tell Fuji that the only doctor who'd ever seen Roy had wanted to take him away, to lock him up and study him? How could he tell him that, without making their new friends afraid of Roy, of what he was? Tears sprang up in Arai's eyes; for once, he had no idea at all what to do, not even a decent guess. Roy was suffering, and Arai was terrified that he was going to screw everything up. "Please, Fuji," he begged, blindly turning to the only thread of hope he had. "Don't let a doctor see him. There's gotta be something else we can do for him."


	9. Chapter 9

Fuji looked between him and Roy, worried and doubtful. And then, after a moment, he seemed to come to a decision about something.

"All right. Perhaps a doctor isn't necessary.". He didn't exactly looked like he believed it, but Arai was willing to take a break however he could get it. "I think I know someone who might be able to help him. If he can walk a short ways."

Arai looked at him, scared as he hadn't been in a long time, wishing he knew he could trust Fuji for sure. Wishing that just this once, he could depend on someone else.

Then Roy made another wheezing, awful cough, and Arai flinched, and knew he had very little choice but to trust.

"I'll help him walk. But....I don't have anything to pay with. I can pay by working. That's about it.". His cheeks burned, not just with the shame of poverty, but responsibility, too. If only he'd picked a better place to stay; if only Roy hadn't tried to shelter him, instead of waking him up.

And because of that responsibility, he looked Fuji square in the eye, though it was difficult. "I'll work as hard as it takes. Whatever I have to do...."

Fuji smiled a small, gentle smile, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry too hard about it. Something will work out. Let me make a phone call, neh?"

"Th-thank you," Arai said, and swallowed hard. "I'll talk to Roy."

Fuji nodded and headed off for the phone, and Arai took a deep breath and tried to approach his friend.

"Hey, pal," he said softly. He'd learned to move slow and talk soothingly when Roy got strange like this. When he was scared or hurt, it was like something feral came forward in him, and it was harder than usual for him to remember things, and to behave civilized.

Arai moved forward cautiously, wincing at the labored rasp of Roy's breath, watching his dull, heavy lidded eyes for any sign of alarm or impending flight. Roy had never purposefully hurt Arai before, but Arai had taken some bruises early on, from Roy trying to get away, thinking he had to protect himself.

"Hey, you're not feeling too good, huh? I'm real sorry about that Roy.". Making himself smaller always seemed to help, so he crouched down, keeping his hands where Roy could see them, and crept a little closer.

"You tried hard today, even though you felt bad. You're a good guy, you know that? You're a real good friend."

Roy sniffled, and shuddered, but Arai's words seemed to be getting through to him.  
"Good?" he rasped out, and Arai felt a tiny spark of relief in the midst of his crushing worry.

"Yeah, you're the best. Best pal I've got. So I wanna help you out, okay? Cos we're best pals, and we help each other out. That's our deal, remember?"

Roy coughed, and rubbed his nose against his tense fisted hand. "Cold. Hurts."

Arai's heart twisted with sympathy, and he scooted toward Roy, close enough to lay a hand on his back. "You got a cold from bein' in the rain. And I'm sorry about that. But Fuji says he knows somebody who can make you feel better. You wanna go see them?"

"Go?". Roy cringed, and tried to wedge himself deeper behind the shelves, but he could go no further. He began to pant again, his tired hazy eyes widening with worry, and it tore at Arai's conscience.

"No, it's nothing to be scared of. It's just a visit. Someplace close, we can walk to. And I'll stay with you, I promise. I won't let anything bad happen."

He talked slow and soft, rubbing his hand soothingly over Roy's shoulder, just like all the other times he'd caught the man working himself into a froth. "It's gonna be okay. We're just gonna visit somebody who can make you all better again. Get you fixed right up."

It was hard to tell whether his tactics were working, or if Roy was just too sick and worn out to put up much of a fuss. At any rate, the hard-bunched shoulder under Arai's hand slackened, and Roy just hung his head, pulling in labored breaths.

"Let's get outta here, okay? I think Fuji's waiting for us.". He got his arm around Roy's shoulders, drawing him close, and Roy slowly complied, squirming out from the racks, until he could turn and get his legs under him.

He was heavy, and clumsy, but Arai bore him up until he got to his feet, then got one arm around him, and helped him shuffle slowly out into the kitchen, and on toward the table where they took meals. By the time they'd made it that far, Arai was in serious doubt whether Roy was fit to make it down the street.

But then Momo ventured in, with an uncharacteristically concerned expression, eyeing the pair of them. "Fuji just told me what's goin' on," he said quietly. "Thought I'd lend a hand gettin' him down to the Elrics."

At the mention of that name, the bottom dropped out of Arai's stomach. There was no way Roy could handle that noisy, abrasive older brother, especially not in this condition.

And his alarm must have shown on his face, because Momo tried quickly to reassure him. "You can take my word for it, he'll be in good hands," nodding toward Roy. "Those guys may not be practicing doctors, with all the papers and such, but they're sharp, and real good at patching folks up. And they uh, they've dealt with some....unusual stuff before. So they ain't gonna give Roy a hard time, or nothin'."

Arai grit his teeth, realizing yet again that he had no choice. He was a million miles off from liking this option, but there wasn't any other. They'd already put Fuji and Momo both to a world of trouble today, and it would be bad for several reasons to turn down the help they were offering.

So he said the only thing he could. "Thank you. Thanks a lot. I'll make it up to you for the trouble. Whatever you need."

Momo broke into a subdued grin, and threw him a shrug. "Hey, it's nothin'. Just remember me at Christmas time."

He knew it was just an expression, but as Momo got to Roy's other side, with a quiet, "Say big fella, you feel up for a little stroll?", Arai vowed that one way or another, he would remember Momo, and Fuji both. At this Christmas, and every one to come.

Between the two of them, they managed to lead Roy off from the front of the bakery, Arai sheltering him from the cold drizzle with a borrowed umbrella, and down to the apothecary shop.

It was quiet when they entered this time, Al meeting them right at the door, and gently ushering them inside.  
"Rotten weather, isn't it? Morning Momo, Arai. And you must be Roy, yes? Why don't we go to the back where it's warmer. I was just making tea, when Fuji called."

Roy stuck tight to Arai's side, mustering the energy to look around the store's interior blearily as they passed through, and sniffing wetly around, before coughing into his fist.

"My, that doesn't sound good," said Al, brow furrowing in concern. "How long have you felt poorly, Roy?"

Roy peered at him in confusion, and then slumped against Arai, who took over to answer.

"Sorry, he doesn't talk much. But I think he just woke up with it this morning. It's been getting worse all day."

Al frowned. "That's awfully fast. Does he have any allergies?"

"Not that I know of.". Then he thought of that basement, and all those burlap sacks. "It was real dusty, where we slept last night though. And we....got pretty soaked on the way."

Hearing this, Momo gave him an odd look. "You two musta been out late then. It didn't start rainin' til after midnight."

Arai froze, realizing he'd slipped up, and wracked his brain for an excuse. "We uh, we went for a walk. Late." The second-to-last thing in the world he wanted to do was lie to an employer--especially somebody like Momo, who he genuinely liked--and lose their trust. But he was frazzled with remorse and worry, and in that particular moment, the _very_ last thing he wanted to do was admit they'd been taking the liberty of camping on Fuji's roof, because they had nowhere else safe to go.

Momo looked confused, skeptical, and Arai felt about two feet tall for misleading him, but he could've fallen over in gratitude, when the man let it go.  
"Huh. Well it looks like you two are set here, I gotta be headin' back to the shop.". He gave Roy a pat on the arm, saying, "See you soon, alright Lefty?" And to Arai he nodded. "You're in real good hands, here. Don't worry about a thing, got it?"

"I'll come back soon as I can," Arai promised. "I don't want to leave you short-handed."

"We can hold down the fort all right. You just look after your pal.". And with a departing grin, Momo set off.

Al, meanwhile, had been looking Roy over pensively, and as soon as Momo was gone, he had Arai guide his friend around the long lab tables, over to a big overstuffed chair, towards the back.

"He can rest there, while I get some things together. Would you and Roy like some tea?"

Arai was first inclined to refuse, say he was fine, thanks, but in truth he was a little chilled, and wanted something to calm his nerves.

"That would be great, thank you."  
Al smiled. "All right. I'll grab a stethoscope and a thermometer, and be right back with some tea for us."

**

Roy slumped in the chair, looking completely wrung out and coughing fitfully. Not knowing where else to go, and not wanting to stray too far from Roy anyway, Arai hovered beside him, one hand on his friend's shoulder to remind him he was there, as well as to help keep him calm. The vagueness had returned to Roy's eyes, a kind of withdrawal from sense, and bad things could happen if no one helped him remember that he was okay.

Al returned quickly with tea for each of them, and a small kit that he placed on the floor on the other side of the chair. Roy watched him warily, but made no moves to flee or attack, and Arai patted his shoulder with affection.

"See, Roy," he said. "Mr. Elric's gonna help you feel better. Take a sip of the tea he was nice enough to bring you, it's real good."

Strange dark eyes, dulled from their usual sparkle, glanced up at him, and Roy tried to obey. But his hands shook badly, the tea nearly slopping over the lip of the cup until Arai hastily put down his own to help him.

Al smiled a little, pulling on his stethoscope. "Roy," he said pleasantly, and the man's gaze flickered over to him. "I need to listen to you breathe, okay? It won't hurt any, I just need to put this against your chest so I can hear. Will you let me do that?"

Arai blinked in surprise. Without knowing a thing about Roy, Alphonse had somehow picked precisely the right tack to take with him, treating him just as Arai would have. His previous suspicions confirmed, hope bounced in his chest. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

Roy wheezed and coughed, but gave a barely visible nod, and Al moved slowly forward to press the end of the stethoscope to the man's chest, sliding it from place to place as he listened with an intent expression. When he'd heard what he needed, he sat back with a small frown. "Does his heart always beat so fast," he asked Arai, "or is that part of this illness?"

"I-I don't know, sir," Arai admitted. "Never really paid attention, before."

"Hmm." Replacing the stethoscope, Al pulled out a thermometer and held it up. "Do you think he'd let us take his temperature?"

A slight chill ran through Arai, despite the warming effects of the tea. Alphonse would know, if he did that. But what choice did they have? "I'll see, sir," he answered, subdued.

While Arai explained to Roy about the thermometer, Al pulled out a small leatherbound notebook and scratched a few notes, and when Arai indicated that Roy was ready he sidled closer. "Open your mouth," he told him, in that reassuring voice.

Roy blinked and complied, his jaws parting to reveal sharpened, predatory teeth, and Arai braced himself for the startled exclamation to follow. But Al merely grunted, sliding the thermometer carefully beneath Roy's tongue, and warning him, "Don't bite it, okay? Just keep it where I put it."

The thermometer bobbed as Roy twitched his mouth unhappily, whining in quiet protest. But he did as he was told, holding it in place until Al removed it, giving a low whistle as he read the numbers. "One hundred and five," he said breathily. "He shouldn't be conscious, with it that high."

It had to come out; it was already there. "Sir," Arai told him reluctantly, "Roy isn't... he's not like other folks." He swallowed hard, went on. "He's made different from us, but he's a really swell guy, he's my best friend, and I don't know what I'd do without him..."

He was rambling, the words flowing out in a uncontrollable torrent, but Arai couldn't hold them back, desperate to make Alphonse understand, not judge them, not hurt Roy, or take him away. All the fear he'd held pent inside was spiraling out, and he clutched Roy's arm hard, shaking until the sick man rasped his name, eyes wide and frightened.

"Arai," Alphonse said gently, grasping his shoulder and making him look up. The chemist's hazel eyes were steady on his own, and under their calm gaze the incessant spill of anxiety gradually fell quiet, and Arai sniffled, mumbling apologies.

"Arai," he repeated. "My brother and I don't judge people for being different. We're going to do the best we can to help Roy get better. But it's important to know more about him, so we make the right decisions. I'd like to let Ed examine him as well."

Horror panged straight through the reassurance that had been building, and Arai knew his face must have been stricken. Al just smiled, a little fondly, a little sadly, and added, "My brother's a genius, you know," as though that might somehow soothe the terrible sense of foreboding that had arisen.

Right on cue, a querulous voice rose from the other room. "Al? What the hell's going on out there?"

"Someone who needs our help, brother," Al replied, never taking his eyes away from Arai. "This one's a little trickier than most."

"Fuck, well don't leave him standing around." There was a muffled thud, growled curses, and something that sounded like metal dragging along the floor, and Arai's hair stood on end. What could possibly be back there, to make sounds like that? Surely they weren't seriously going to take Roy back to that!

"Language, brother!" Al scolded, but the noises had already prompted him to hurry to the door, where he paused in dismay. "Brother!" he exclaimed. "You know you're not supposed to move around on your own! I would have helped you."

"Stop treating me like a damned invalid, Al! It sounds like he'd gonna need the bed, and I'm fuckin' sick of it anyway. Just bring him in already."

That was the sound of the elder Elric moving? Unbidden, the monster from the old movie he'd recalled when he'd first seen their lab lurched back into Arai's mind, and a wave of nausea poured over him. There wasn't any other way to help Roy that he knew of, and certainly if they left it would be a slap in the face of all the hospitality Fuji and Momo had shown them. But this was a nightmare, and Arai wasn't sure at all that, no matter how kind the man was, he could let Alphonse bring Roy back to face whatever ogre he called his brother.

And yet, Fuji and Momo, two of the most decent people he had met in his whole life, trusted these two. Shivering, and feeling Roy begin to tremble from the overflow of his emotions, Arai wondered if he had it in him to put his own fears aside and abide by the judgment of someone else. Just because it had never worked before didn't mean it never would. Right?


	10. Chapter 10

Arai bit his lip, trying to pull himself together. Struggling to find in himself a better, stronger person that Roy could rely on. He thought of how Roy had endured the rain for him, holding up that flimsy bit of shelter all on his own, doing the best he could, for as long as he could.

And now it was Arai's turn. Because that was their deal. They never talked about it, they both just learned it together over time, through hard days and long nights, and many trials: Friends take turns being strong for each other.

" 'rai...okay?" said Roy, patting at his arm with a clumsy hand. "Okay?"

He could do this. He *would* be strong for Roy, just like Roy had been for him. He took a deep breath, and forced on a smile. "Yeah, it's gonna be okay. Al wants us to go in there and see his brother, and I'm gonna stick right with you. Pretty soon, you're gonna feel like a million bucks, how's that sound?"

He bent down and got an arm around to help Roy up again, smiling as he bore the unsteady weight, still smiling as Roy rasped and complained and muttered, but didn't resist much.

His cheeks hurt, his back teeth were clenched, and his stomach was a sour twisting knot of anxiety, but nobody had to know that. "You're doing great, just a little further," he encouraged, and then with a few more deep, determined breaths on his part, they reached the next room.

"Hell, I thought I was in bad shape," muttered the blond-haired guy inside, eyeing Roy and Arai, as he gingerly tugged a plain quilted dressing robe around himself.

And in truth, he looked like he shouldn't even be out of the narrow daybed he'd evidently just vacated. There were bandages around his forehead, bandages peeking out from the dressing robe at his throat, and half his face was discolored by some nasty looking bruises. But his eyes were startling and keen; their tawny pale irises fixed on Arai and Roy without wavering, even as the guy had to lean against the wall, for support.

"Behave, brother," Al said quietly, as he moved to drag a chair over by the bed. "That's Roy and Arai. And Roy's a little nervous around strangers and doctors."

"He should be," said the smaller man, fending off Al's attempts to guide him into the chair. "Pete's sake, quit hovering. My legs still work.". Though he more seemed to stumble into the chair and drop, rather than sit, precisely. "Well come on," he gestured to Arai. "No reason to stand there all day."

Arai steeled himself, and crossed the threshold with Roy, giving a quiet thanks to Al, who moved forward to help get him to the bed. Since Roy was practically burrowed into his side, hanging on with a death grip, as he took in the man in the chair, and the narrower confines of the room, Arai had to turn them about and sit on the rumpled bedclothes, next to Roy.

Al handed the stethoscope off to Ed, giving him a calm rundown of Roy's temperature and heart rate, along with some foreign sounding jargon that went completely over Arai's head, before going off to retrieve the tea, and his medical bag.  
"Roy's a bit nervous about being here, so be nice," Al warned his brother.

"The hell, I'm always nice," Ed griped back, showing just the faintest edge of a sharp grin, as Al sighed. But as soon as Al stepped out, Ed went quiet and serious. He sat in his chair, and for a long moment, did nothing but look at Roy. And once Roy noticed the scrutiny, he raised his head and studied Ed right back.

"This weather's a bitch, huh?" Ed mentioned. "If you're feeling like crap to begin with, days like this just make it worse.". He made a wry face, and reached up to rub his shoulder, wincing a little. "And this is just the start of the crap weather, too."

Slowly, Roy seemed to uncoil a little, leaning more heavily against Arai for support, though not taking his tired, deep-shadowed eyes from the man in the chair.

Ed looked him over pensively, and then worked himself forward in the chair. "Did Al check your throat yet?"

"I think he just took his temperature," Arai provided, and that sharp gold gaze flickered over to him.  
"Is Roy usually this talkative?"

"He has....trouble with words. He talks to me sometimes, though."

"Fair enough," Ed shrugged. "He got any trouble hearing?"  
"He hears real good. Better than me."

"Huh.". Ed looked back to Roy. "Open your mouth, and say Ah, wouldja? Do like this, Ahhhh."

Roy blinked fuzzily and cocked his head at the odd display.  
"Go ahead," Arai encouraged. "He wants to see inside your mouth."

Roy gave him a doubtful sidelong look, and muffled a cough in his hand. "Ah?"  
"Yeah, open wide, like you're gonna yawn. Like he did."

Still regarding Arai dubiously, Roy opened his mouth, showing those sharp white teeth again. Ed studied them with a curious frown for a moment, before ducking closer, to look down Roy's throat.

"Inflamed," he confirmed to himself. "Doesn't look infected, though. You gonna mind if I check your glands?"

Roy closed his wide yawn, and looked to Arai for guidance. "That's just touching his neck, right?" Arai asked, and Ed nodded.

"He's gonna make sure your throat's okay on the outside," Arai explained, touching his own neck to demonstrate.

Roy sighed his resigned permission, and Ed leaned forward, reaching out with his left hand (more bandages there, Arai discovered), and carefully palpitated Roy's throat. Keeping a wary eye on Roy's mouth and eyes, all the while.

Arai saw for the first time, that Ed had his right arm tucked out of sight inside the sleeve of his dressing robe, like it was in worse shape than his left. It occurred to him that maybe it was just those injuries that accounted for all the noise and ill-temper he'd heard before, since at the moment, the guy seemed to be acting pretty decent.

"You two aren't related, I'm guessing," he said, with a glance at Arai, and Arai tensed all over again. Why did he want to know that? And what should Arai tell him?

And then it came to him, family medical history. Doctors always wanted to know stuff about the people you were related to, because there were things that ran in the family.

It was probably just his stress talking, but for a second, Arai was tempted to ask if it _looked_ like they were related. But he just shook his head. "I dunno who his family is. He was all by himself when we met."  
Ed's gaze sharpened on him briefly, and Arai had a strong feeling that this was another guy who didn't let much get past him.

"Where was that?"  
"Little town, out in the hills. Maryland, somewhere, I guess? Mighta been Virginia, though."

Ed frowned, and his gaze went distant and thoughtful. "Lotta woods out there," he said, though before Arai could agree, or ask what that had to do with Roy's cold, the man had straightened up, and moved on.

"He get sick like this often?"  
"I never saw him sick, ever. But I've just known him a few months. Since June."

"No allergies? No food ever made him sick?"  
"Just sweets, if he eats too much. And he's gotten carsick before."

Next to him, Roy heaved a shallow, rattling sigh, attempting to pull in on himself with a soft whimper, and Arai ached with helpless empathy.  
"I never saw him like this. You think there's anything that'll make him feel better?"

"His lymph nodes are swollen all to hell, he's running a fever, and his chest is full of crap," Ed told him, matter-of-factly. "If it's not allergies, then he's got some kind of infection kicking his ass, maybe working on pneumonia."

At that one word, Arai stiffened. Pneumonia was awful. He'd heard more stories than he could count, of people getting carried off by it.  
Young and old, strong and weak alike. Some people pulled through, but some just didn't.

"We could give him stuff for the symptoms, but unless we knock out what's causing it, he's just gonna get worse, you get me? But I don't wanna give him the wrong thing, and cause more problems....". He trailed off and peered at Roy. "You ever take aspirin before? Little white pill, bout this big, tastes like shit?"

But Roy only gazed at him in confusion, and Arai had no idea.

Ed sighed and shrugged. "Hey Al, grab an aspirin powder wouldja? Dump it in some a that kiddie cough syrup," he called, and then went on in a lower voice, like he was making a list to himself. "We'll start on the cough and the fever. Check his blood pressure, see if he's got any rash. Don't guess you know his weight?"

"He's about the same as me, I guess. One thirty, something like that?"  
"We'll get him on the scale. I don't wanna screw up the dose, whatever we give him."

The more he talked, the more Arai started to dread what all this was surely going to cost. Fuji had said not to worry, but already they'd kicked the older brother out of his bed, and now Al was coming in with medicines, and from the way Ed spoke, it was going to be all kinds of trouble just figuring out what was wrong with Roy to begin with.

But Roy clearly needed all the help they could give him. Arai would just have to work out the payment however he could, when the time for paying came. If it meant working two jobs, then he'd do that. If it meant going back to scrounging meals out of the dumpsters of restaurants and groceries, he'd do that too. If they wanted his blood, he'd give it. Whatever came, he would face it, and never back down.

With a feeling of grim resolution, he watched Al come in with the medicines, their teacups, and a pitcher of water on a tray. Under his arm, he had tucked a thick leather-bound book. "Thought you might want the Hopkins reference," he murmured to his brother, and Ed nodded.

"Good idea. You remember that antibiotic suspension I was messin' with last week? We still got the base for it?"  
"It's in refrigerated storage," nodded Al. "You thinking about using it?"

"Could be a start.". Ed gave Roy a distant, speculative look. "Don't wanna bomb him with penicillin, if that other stuff would do the job."

Al nodded and set the tray aside, removing a little shot-sized glass full of something orange and syrupy, and holding it up for Roy to see.

"You probably won't care for the taste of this," he explained, smiling ruefully. "But it'll make you feel better. You need to drink all of it, okay?"

Roy sniffled at the glass, and wrinkled his nose, and Arai leaned forward to help. "I'll hold it, and you drink," he instructed, taking the glass from Al with a look of thanks.

"Stinks," Roy muttered, turning a baleful look on Arai.  
"I know, but it's real good for you, I promise. Just swallow it down quick."

Roy clamped his mouth shut, scowling.  
"You wanna feel better, you need to take this," Arai explained. "It's just a little bit, please Roy?"

"Hold your nose," Al suggested, smiling. "Then you won't smell it, or taste it. It works like magic."

Ed glanced up from the book he'd been leafing through, with a cynically amused grin for Al. "I been tellin' you that for years. Never thought you listened."  
"Drink your tea, brother," Al answered placidly.

After some hovering and negotiating (with a little growling and squirming on Roy's part) , Arai finally convinced Roy to pinch his nostrils shut long enough to get the syrup down.

Roy made several disgusted faces, and drank down the water he was offered afterward with an injured, put-upon air. But Arai praised him anyway, as did Al.

"Once that takes effect, we'll do a better examination, and then let him rest a little. The cough remedy is apt to make him drowsy anyway," Al said. "If you wanted to head back to the bakery, we can keep an eye on him while he sleeps."

Arai shifted uncomfortably. He probably *should* go back and help at the bakery. He hated to think that Momo would have to do all the supply shopping and stocking on his own. But he had promised Roy that he'd stay with him.

"I--is it okay if I stick around? I can help out here, if you want. Anything you need."

"You any good at ironing shirts?" Ed asked. "Al's been doing the work for two people since I been laid up, and all the goddamn laundry's stackin' up to the--."

"We can't ask him to do that," Al admonished quietly. "Honestly."  
"I can do pressing," Arai offered, seizing on the chance to be useful. "I worked in a laundry awhile back, and learned all that stuff. You got any mending needs doing? I can do socks and buttons. Sew up seams, whatever."

"You can mend socks?" Ed leaned in, with an avid gleam in his eye, even as Al groaned. "Oh man, we got baskets of socks fulla holes."

"Edward--."  
"I'll do it," Arai jumped in. "Just show me where to start."


	11. Chapter 11

Al tutted and shook his head, but between Arai's insistence and Ed's enthusiasm, he was finally talked into disappearing up the narrow staircase at the back of the room and returning with a fair sized basket of socks and other clothing in need of mending. Giving his brother a look of mild disappointment which the elder ignored, Al set it down in front of Arai and left once more to retrieve the sewing kit.

Glad to be able to offer something to the two apothecaries, Arai accepted the mending gratefully, moving to sit on the floor beside the bed and coaxing Roy into stretching out along it, so that his head was level with Arai's. Roy chattered his teeth anxiously, shooting fearful glances around the room, but he eventually complied, huddling on the narrow mattress with a look of mingled confusion and guilt and Arai belatedly realized that this was likely Roy's first time resting in a real bed.

"Pretty comfy alright, isn't it, pal?" he asked Roy cheerfully, and the other man gave a slow blink, and let out a wheezy sigh. His eyes were starting to become unfocused, and Arai hoped it was the medicine taking effect, rather than a further decline in Roy's health.

Meanwhile, Ed was busy flipping pages in the book Al had brought him, grumbling to himself and marking pages with his finger as he cross-referenced his facts. Every so often he would make a sound of discovery, or scoff at something not his liking; Arai had never seen anyone so animated when left on their own. It was almost as though Ed expected the book to spew out the answers he demanded, and was offended when it didn't.

"Pea-brained idiots," the man growled, savagely brushing the pages aside as he scanned the words. "This is a bunch of outdated, Dark Ages bullshit they're trying to peddle as science. What a crock of- AL!" he bellowed, and beside Arai, Roy flinched at the noise.

"What is it, brother?" Al poked his head around the corner, bottles in his hands and a frown on his face. "Have you forgotten everything about bedside manners?"

"Sorry, sorry," Ed muttered, not sounding sincere in the least. "Look, this reference is pointless. Why do we even have it in the library? The tables are out of date, the bibliographies are fucked, and they don't even mention half the vaccines we..."

"You insisted we have it," Al interrupted, giving his brother a fond look that only reinforced Arai's notion that Al had the patience of a saint. "Spent half a week's profits on it, as I recall."

"Yeah, well, it wasn't worth it. Don't let it happen again." Ed grunted, and despite his disdain for the volume, laid it carefully aside. "Gimme the Grey's, won'tcha? Least I know that one's okay."

Keeping his eyes focused on the needle flicking back and forth drawing thread, Arai listened to the exchange and was silently horrified. This was the person he was trusting to tend to Roy's illness? A foul-mouthed know-it-all without an ounce of empathy? Roy coughed, the air rattling ominously in his lungs, and Arai wanted nothing more than to hug him and beg his forgiveness for being so stupid. Stupid for leading them to sleep out in the open, stupid for bringing him here and trusting this terrifying person with his health.

If Roy died, there'd be no one to blame but himself.

But he held it all inside, mechanically working his way through the holed socks, the shirts with missing buttons, the preposterous floppy coat with a long tear up its side. Al brought back a large anatomy book, passing it over to Ed who immediately became engrossed in the plate engravings within. The room was quiet but for Roy's labored breaths, low and painful. Before Arai knew it, his seeking hand was grazing the bottom of the basket, and he blinked in surprise as he realized he was done.

"That didn't take you long at all." Al's amused voice made him crane his neck to look over the bed for its source. The younger Elric brother was standing over the elder, smiling kindly. "You really didn't have to do that, but thank you all the same."

Arai gave him a tentative smile in return, trying not to glance beside him at Ed, still absorbed in his reading. "It's the least I could do," he replied, "with all you're doing for Roy, I mean."

"Speaking of which," Al said, "I think he's asleep."

Sure enough, the older man's eyes had closed, his breathing leveled. It still rattled noisily, but for the moment it seemed to come easier than it had. A little of the tightness in Arai's chest relaxed at that. Maybe Roy would be okay, after all.

But Ed was rousing from his book, frowning up at Alphonse. "Onion rolls," he groused. "We're out of onion rolls again."

Al sighed. "It's no wonder we never make any money, brother, with the way you eat." He caught Arai's eye and nodded at Roy. "Do you think you could give me a hand with a quick run to the bakery? He should sleep for a while, so I doubt he'll miss you."

He couldn't refuse. It would clearly signal his distrust of Ed, and the last thing he could afford to do was alienate the Elrics. One hand stole over to rest on Roy's arm, and feeling a bit bereft he nodded slowly. "Yeah. I can do that."

Al gave him a grateful look, and Ed flipped a hand dismissively. "Don't worry, kid," he said. "I'll keep an eye on ol' Roy, here."

It was hard to leave his friend, but Arai put on his best face and followed Al out of the apothecary and down the block to the bakery. Fuji and Momo greeted them both when they walked in, and while Fuji collected Al's order Momo cocked his head at Arai. "How's our guy doin'?"

Somehow, he managed to dredge up the wherewithal to grin at Momo. "Better, I think," he told him. "He was sleeping when we left."

Momo nodded his head sagely. "Best thing in the world for him, I'll bet." With a broad wink, he added, "An' you've got the best guys out there lookin' after him. He'll be right as rain before you can say 'boo'!"

Arai nodded in agreement, sincerely hoping that Momo was right. The less time they had to spend in the presence of Al's nervewracking older brother, the happier Arai would be.

It didn't take long to get their order- including Ed's coveted onion rolls- boxed up and then they were off again, with Fuji's exhortation to keep them posted on Roy's condition. Arai had to force himself to not to break into a trot, matching his pace to Al's unconcerned stroll. By the time they reached the apothecary again, Arai was just about ready to throw the boxes aside and bolt for the little side room.

Hearing Roy squawk in hoarse protest was enough to remove the last curb on his impatience.

Shoving the box he was carrying onto the first open space he saw, Arai flat out ran for the bedside, where he found Roy struggling to sit upright, his face flushed red and slick with sweat, eyes wild with fear. Beside him, Ed had a hand on his arm while the other hand gripped a long needle. With a wordless cry, Arai launched forward, startling Ed into letting go of Roy, who immediately cowered back against the wall.

"What are you doing to him?" Arai cried, trying in vain to grasp Roy's hands in his. The bigger man struggled, not recognizing him, panting in short, harsh gasps and baring his teeth. "Roy, buddy, it's me! It's me!"

"He's having a reaction to the medicine we gave him," Ed growled, brandishing the needle. "His fever spiked while he was sleeping. I was taking a blood sample so we can figure out what the hell we're up against."

"You were hurting him!" Fear and guilt pounded in Arai's head as he fought to catch Roy's attention. He had promised to stay with his friend, and he'd broken that promise. He'd left him with a man he hadn't trusted from the start, and now Roy was scared to death and it was all his fault. Completely distraught, Arai was ready to pull Roy out of the bed and drag him right back to the bakery, no matter the consequences, but gentle hands gripped his shoulders, and Al's voice was right there at his ear.

"Calm down, Arai, you're just scaring him more." Al was stronger than he looked, and he carefully forced Arai back, giving Roy space. Without anyone in his face the older man immediately calmed, although his face was still deeply disturbed and filled with confusion. "Ed wasn't hurting him. A blood sample doesn't hurt, and if Roy isn't responding properly to the medicine then we really do need to examine it." Al turned him, forced him to meet his eyes. "I promise, Arai, we're not going to hurt him. We're going to help him get better, I swear."

***

Arai registered the words, he felt Al's steady hands on his shoulders, but it all felt meaningless to him. All he could think was _my fault_ , and _I promised_ , and these people didn't understand about Roy and him, all that they'd been through together, and how they had nothing, not a thing in the world except each other. They didn't understand that Roy was scared to death sometimes of a world that didn't make sense to him, and that sometimes Arai ached with a homesick loneliness so heavy and choking that he couldn't draw a breath.

They didn't understand. Nobody understood, except him and Roy, and Roy had nobody to stand up for him, nobody to stand between him and the rest of the ignorant world, except Arai.

"You can't--god, you can't just _do_ stuff to him like that. He's not some experiment to poke at, he's a _person_. And other people did bad things to him, they--they hurt him, and--". He sucked in a breath, hearing the hysterical edge to his voice and helpless to control it. "They called him an animal, and tied him up, but he's not. He's _good_ , and he looks out for me, and I can't--I can't....". He choked on a sob, on all the fear and the terrible responsibility, and guilt; it was all massed up in a painful hard knot in his throat.

"Please listen, I understand, we wouldn't hurt Roy for anything.". Al was looking him in the eye intently, his voice heavy with conviction. "Edward wouldn't have interfered if it weren't serious, please believe me--."

He was cut off by another hoarse sound from Roy, a soft thump as he collapsed against the wall, and Arai spun around just in time to see him sliding down the wall, unconscious, eyes rolled back to show the whites.

"Dammit," Ed hissed, lunging for him, tripping and hitting the floor with a wince, but crawling forward determinedly to reach Roy, now slumped half sitting up, against the wall.

Arai stood rooted to the spot in dumb horror, as Al leapt forward to assist, and Ed put his ear to Roy's chest, snaking one hand up to feel the pulse at his throat.

"His airways are still good, but his heart's goin' a mile a minute," growled Ed. "Ruling out anaphylaxis from the aspirin for now."

"You think it's the diphenhydramine?" Al asked putting on the stethoscope, and laying the end against Roy's ribs.

"Unless he's sensitive to corn starch or food coloring, that's my best guess. Get me that blood pressure cuff."

Al handed the stethoscope over to Ed, and quickly snatched the black canvas arm strap off the chair Ed had been sitting on. Moving fast, with seamless coordination, they got the cuff on Roy's limp arm, and Al squeezed the air bulb, while Ed listened intently to several places on Roy's chest.

"What the hell's goin' on with you, Chief?" he muttered. "Jeez, he's hot as a furnace. Way his chest sounds, I don't wanna stick him in an ice bath, but we gotta get that fever down."

Al read off the blood pressure dial, and said, "Ice packs and a camphor salve?"

Ed nodded, scowling, and Al sprang up from the floor, nearly colliding with Arai, who'd been creeping closer, knees quaking, dumbstruck and terrified.

"Hey, sorry, you all right?" Al asked.  
"What--what's happening to him?"

Al caught his elbow and started moving forward. "Come along and I'll explain. His pulse is the same as it was, I'm guessing he passed out because of a blood pressure drop. That's common enough, if you get up too quickly. His blood pressure is low, but not in a dangerous range. Right now, we're getting some ice packs from refrigeration, to help bring his fever down."

Arai stumbled along, trying to follow Al's quick, clipped words, even as he kept seeing, in his mind's eye, Roy slipping limp down that wall. That sight would haunt him for a long time.  
"Is he gonna die?"

Al stared straight ahead, as grimly determined as his brother had been, crawling those last few feet, to reach Roy. "Not if we have anything to say about it. Ed and I think something in the cough syrup made him react. His body's trying to get rid of it now, and as much as he's sweating, I don't think it will be long. We'll get his fever down with the ice, and use the camphor salve to help him breathe easier. Does that make sense?"

"I guess?" said Arai. It sounded clear-cut; Al was speaking in simple plain English. But too much had just happened in too short a time, and Arai's brain couldn't process it all. The most he could really take in was that Roy wasn't going to die right away.

They reached the refrigerated storage room--basically a closet with a heavy airtight door in the back of the lab, and Arai held the door open, and let Al load his arms with ice packs.

"Good thing I remembered to freeze these all again after Brother's accident." Al's smile was just a rueful quirk of the mouth this time. "He fusses that I'm too compulsive, but if I wasn't, we'd both be regretting it. Is that too much? Can you carry all those?"

"It's fine.". Arai shifted the packs in his arms so he wouldn't drop any, and then followed Al out to go hunt down the camphor salve.

Much later, he would find himself wondering just what exactly had happened to Al's brother, to put him in such rough shape. And he would realize that Al had given him a perfect opening to ask, with those ice packs. But it was quite a while, before he really came out of the stupid state of utter shock that had seized him when Roy suddenly passed out, and until then, he wasn't capable of thinking about much else.

What he was thinking about, as they hurried back through the lab, was how Ed had bolted for Roy as soon as he'd fallen, and Al had followed almost instantly after. They'd jumped right in to help, while Arai had just stood there panicked, and most importantly, they'd known what they should do.

He thought about it all the way back to the room, where Ed still sat on the floor next to Roy, listening to his pulse. He thought about it as he and Al both lifted Roy up, still unconscious and unresisting, back into the bed. He thought about it while they got Roy's threadbare workshirt off, and arranged the ice packs under his armpits, and around his neck and head.

Ed and Al both noted the light pattern of spots that freckled Roy's shoulders, down his back, all the way down to where his hips disappeared under the loose waistband of his dungarees. They raised their eyebrows at each other, but that was all.

Discovering all Roy's various scars got a different reaction. Al furrowed his brow in a disapproving look, and for just a moment, Ed looked like he might start yelling at the top of his lungs. But they looked away, and it was back to business for them both.

Through all of that, Arai watched and he thought, and when a quiet moment came, he cleared his throat, and took a breath.

"I--I'm sorry. For how I carried on, awhile ago. I'm sorry I yelled and....said all that stuff.". In truth, he wasn't too sure what all he'd said, he'd been out of his mind at the time. But when in doubt, he found it was always best to apologize anyway.

Ed glared off at the floor uncomfortably. "Don't sweat it. Not like I haven't heard worse."

Al elbowed his brother, and gave Arai another of those wan, too-wise smiles "What Edward means is that he understands. You never know how frightening it can be, to be faced with losing someone close, until it almost happens. We know that. You don't have to apologize."

Arai might have begged to differ, feeling that if the Elric brothers had known how he felt, then that made his outburst all the more wrong. They truly, honestly wanted to help Roy, and he had misjudged them.

But he was exhausted from being scared all day. He was still scared, but too tired to feel it anymore. He was scared Roy wouldn't get better. He was scared Roy would get better, but they wouldn't have a job to go back to. He was scared of the future, going on looking out for Roy, just trying to live day to day, and making more wretched terrible mistakes.

With all that weighing him down, he just wasn't up for debating anything with anybody. So he just shrugged, and looked at Roy, laying so still and pale on the narrow white bed; chest rising and falling, the shadows of his ribs. He really needed to eat more.

"When will he wake up, d'you think?"  
"Hard to say," said Al. "The cough medicine would normally wear off in another couple of hours. He may metabolize it more quickly, but sleep all day anyway. The fever saps his energy as well. The more he can sleep through it, the better."

"He's gonna be here awhile then, huh?" Arai concluded.  
"We need to watch him overnight, at least. To make sure there aren't anymore adverse reactions. We'll start running tests on his blood sample shortly, and hopefully have something to fight his infection soon. We could start him on it tomorrow, and watch him through the first few doses, to make sure he's all right with it."

Arai nodded slowly, thinking it through. "I don't wanna be in your way, or anything. But is it all right if I stay here with him? I....promised him I would."

Ed, who'd been furiously jotting down notes, stilled and stared at the end of his pen. "We got a cot, up in the attic. It's ratty as hell, but...." He trailed off and shrugged.

"The floor's fine. A cot will just be in your way," Arai answered, averting his gaze just like Ed had.

"We'll work out something," said Al.

"I should tell Fuji and Momo. That we won't be back tomorrow, probably.". He might as well tell them it was nice knowing them, he thought. Two and a half days on the job, and him and Roy had been more trouble than they were worth. Everybody found that out sooner or later, and Arai was used to it by now.

But this would be the first situation where he really truly regretted losing friends before he'd had the chance to make them. The bakery was a good place. Roy had been happy there. The neighborhood was a good place, and even though he hadn't seen much of it, Arai was going to hate like hell to have to leave.


	12. Chapter 12

Since the Elric brothers were waiting on Roy's fever to come down before doing anything further, Arai guessed this was as good a chance as any to head over to the bakery for a bit. Al said it should be fine, he'd call over if anything happened, and Arai could come running back.

So he trudged back up the street, entered the storefront where Momo was wiping down the counters.  
"Back so soon?" the man grinned. "Don't tell me, Ed wants some pumpkin bread now, too."

"Nah," Arai stretched a thin smile and shuffled his boots. "They uh, they wanna keep Roy overnight. I guess he needs a special medicine, so they wanna keep an eye on him. Prob'ly tomorrow, too. And I--I'm gonna need to stay, with him."

"Stands to reason," said Momo, and grinned. "Keep Ed from gettin' on his nerves."  
"Naw, Mr. Elric's all right," answered Arai, still smarting with guilt over his earlier outburst, and wishing to give the brothers a fair shake, however the chance came to him.

"But Roy's your pal, your compadre, yeah?" Momo said, smiling and yet serious at the same time. "I get it, you wanna stick by him. Through thick and thin, yeah? That's what compadres do."

Arai nodded. "I know we ain't much use to you, over there. If-when Roy gets better, I still wanna make it up to you for all the help. If it ain't too much trouble. If you'd just as soon wash your hands of us, I'd--"

"Whoa, hey, don't nobody talk about washin' no hands.". Momo set aside his rag, and put his hands on his hips, with a look of fond exasperation. "You wanna work here, we gotta place for ya'. Don't matter if it's tomorrow, the day after, next week, whatever. Me and Fuji ain't the kinda guys, gonna cut a fella loose just cause he gets sick. Not fellas like you and Roy, anyway. It ain't like you're a couple bum layabouts lookin for a free ride, I guess I seen that by now. You come back when you can, and we'll be glad to have you, no matter when it is, you got that, Lucky?"

Arai blinked, in stunned disbelief. "I--but we--."  
"You don't really _wanna_ clear out, do ya'?"  
"No!" Arai blurted, sure of that, if nothing else. He just....couldn't believe it. People had told them 'so long', dozens of times, in all kinds of ways. Nobody had ever said, 'come back'

And then Fuji was poking his head out, smiling, saying Arai was just in time, he had something for him. Dazed, Arai wandered back to the kitchen at Fuji's urging, where something incredibly delicious was cooking.

"You'd think by now I'd be able to make a soup without it getting away from me," said Fuji. "Somehow, every time, I make more than I can get rid of. Could you please do me a favor, and take this back to the Elrics'? There's enough for you all, and Alphonse can heat it up for dinner."

As he spoke, he was loading up the big bakery bag with mason jars full of soup, and a big loaf of crusty bread, peeking out from a crisp paper wrapping. "It's chicken noodle. A time-tested cure for what ails you."

In the end, it wasn't the worry, or the guilt, or the gut-gnawing fear for Roy's life, that finally broke Arai. It was the kindness. The simple consideration, and understanding, washing over him, making him realize how long he'd gone without it, and just how hard it had been all this time. It was one small light in the dark, showing him how deep the darkness had been, and how much he had longed for anything to make it easier.

He knew he managed to thank Fuji, and Momo. He knew he promised them him and Roy would be back as soon as they could, and that he'd agreed to keep them posted. But it was like somebody else had taken over to talk for him, because inside he was broken in half with gratitude and sorrow, all mixed up together. And once he'd stumbled out the back door of the bakery, making sure it was closed behind him, he didn't make it far before it all finally overwhelmed him.

He was alone for the moment, he had no one to put on an act for, or be strong for, and just for a little bit, he could lean back against the brick wall of the bakery, and let it all out.

He set down the bakery bag, eyes flooded with tears, hunkered down and cried like a little kid. He cried because he was thankful, he cried for every hardship before, he cried out weeks of disappointed hopes, and the strain of never knowing which way to turn, or what to decide; weighing up his choices and finding them bare as his pockets.

He cried, knowing he'd have to go back and act strong again pretty soon, and he had to get this weakness out of him now, so he could manage later. With his face muffled in his elbow, to keep the noise down, he bawled, and sniffled and gasped, soaking his sleeve and the knees of his chinos with scalding tears.

He thought he would've noticed if anyone approached down the alley. He thought he would've heard somebody walk up. But when the pressure inside him finally eased for the venting of it, and he started trying to breathe normally and pull himself together again, he was stricken to look up and discover a hand reaching out toward him, holding a folded white hanky.

The hand was attached to an arm, clad in an immaculate black suit jacket, and when Arai looked further up, his brain sort of fizzled and ceased to function.

"Are you all right?" Mr. Morinozuka asked, his dark eyes wide with concern. "Is there anything I can do?"

***

For a long moment, all Arai could do was stare back up into Mr. Morinozuka's face, unable to summon the first word to answer the man. His cathartic fit had left him wrung inside out, and he felt brittle as an old corn husk beneath the weight of the compassionate gaze before him.

Recovering enough to hastily swipe at his eyes with his arm, Arai mumbled, "I- I'm okay, sir. It's just..."

He took a deep breath, that godawful image of Roy sliding down the wall, eyes rolled to the ceiling, filling his imagination, and the hard lump in his throat he'd thought he'd finally wept out rose again. With the picture came the feeling of terrified loss that had accompanied the moment, and then there was the bag with the soup and the bread that Fuji had given him, with all the kindness in the world, and Momo's promise, and Arai felt himself starting to crumble again.

Another short, sobbing breath hacked out, and before he knew it Mr. Morinozuka was kneeling on the ground next to him, and the handkerchief was gently dabbing his cheeks. Arai stared at the taller man's knees, at the carefully pressed trousers that were currently being stained with god knows what from the filthy pavement, and his hands clenched convulsively on the bakery bag.

"It's R-Roy, he's sick, and he passed out at the Elric's place, and it scared me so much, and then Fuji gave us soup, and I- I..." He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling a fresh rush of tears wanting to spring up, but he couldn't let them start falling again, not right now, not with Mr. Morinozuka squatting there patiently, getting his expensive pants dirty because he wanted to know why Arai was crying in the alley.

He sniffled, and said, "I've never seen him sick before. He's always been healthy as a horse, and I just thought, what if he... what if... I don't know what I'd do, and I was so scared, an' then Momo told me we didn't have to lose our jobs over this and..."

He broke off again, knowing he should swallow back the next thing that wanted to burst out, but there was something so compelling about Mr. Morinozuka's gentle silence. And it was as though something vital inside his head had gone haywire anyway, every instinct of self-preservation cowed beneath the overpowering need to make sense of things. "W-why is everyone being so nice to us?" he blurted out, hearing the crackle in his voice that was the raw edge of every smashed hope and desire for comfort he'd ever had. "Me an' Roy ain't nothing to any of you, but you're all treating us like we're your pals, and helpin' us out, and I don't think we can ever make enough to pay all of you back for everything you've done, and it's just not fair and I don't understand any of it!"

"Why shouldn't we be friends?"

Arai blinked at the soft response, suddenly aghast at all the insecurities that had just come tumbling from his mouth and doubtful he could have possibly heard Mr. Morinozuka right. "Me an' Roy are nobodies," he said uncertainly. "Not like you and Mr. Haninozuka, or Fuji and Momo or... Everybody 'round here is smart and good, and has a place they belong, and I've never had that, me and Roy, neither of us has. Nobody wants people like us around. They never do. We don't fit in anywhere, except with each other."

"Hmm." The handkerchief wiped away the last smear of moisture at the corner of his eye. "Neither of you are nobodies," came the quiet reply. "If you weren't also smart and good, Fuji wouldn't have hired you. And Mitsukuni wouldn't have let you stay." A pause. "And I wouldn't think we could be friends."

Mr. Morinozuka's voice was grave, but warm at the same time, and Arai dared to peek up through his hair at him. "You think we could be friends? H-how...?"

At that, Mr. Morinozuka smiled. It was the most amazing smile Arai had ever seen, slow and slightly humored, crinkling up the corners of those dark eyes and suffusing his entire face with kindness. "You're trying very hard to be a good person," he said, "but I see someone who is already a good person. I would like to be that person's friend."

Arai let out a choked little hiccup, shaking his head in amazement. It was all starting to seem just a little bit unreal; sitting in an alley, still grubby from sleeping on burlap sacks and wearing the same clothes for days, with a man so far above him that he wouldn't blame him one bit for overlooking him completely. And Mr. Morinozuka wanted to be his friend? It was so far beyond his comprehension that all he could do was give a shaky nod, absolutely overwhelmed.

That amazing, baffling smile made another brief appearance before Mr. Morinozuka nodded back with great solemnity. "Thank you," he said, and Arai about wanted to sink into the ground. He ventured a thin, watery smile of his own, still not quite able to believe this elegant man would have any interest in someone like him. But here he was, still kneeling on the ground and dirtying up his fine clothing, and instead of showing any inclination to move he instead asked, "Could you tell me what happened, from the beginning?"

And how could Arai do anything but comply?

He told him about Roy sniffling and coughing that morning, about finding him collapsed in the storeroom and Fuji persuading him to take Roy to the Elrics. Face flaming with embarrassment, he admitted his initial distrust of Ed, and described his shameful outburst when he saw the needle in the elder Elric's hand. He rushed through the part where Roy passed out, the memory still charged with fear, concluding by detailing his talk with Momo, and motioning toward the bag in front of him. "Fuji made soup, and told me to take some back with me." A sudden jolt shook him, chasing the last remnant of tears back. "Oh no, and I've just been sitting here, Roy might be awake, he might be wondering where I am..."

He scrambled for his feet, and was startled when Mr. Morinozuka picked up the bag. "We should hurry then," he told Arai, who stared back in consternation.

"You don't have to- I mean, aren't you here with Mr. Haninozuka? I don't want to inconvenience him, or cause any problems..."

Although he was holding still at the time, Mr. Morinozuka seemed to stop somehow, his expression faintly perplexed, as though even he was puzzled as to how he could have forgotten his duties. But as quickly as that hesitation appeared it was gone again, and the tall man was once again in possession of himself.

"Mitsukuni isn't here right now," he replied. "And he would understand, in any case. I'm sure he will be anxious to know how Roy is doing, once he hears that he is ill."

Arai couldn't quite explain the little frisson that tickled down his spine as he realized that Mr. Morinozuka actually intended to walk with him back to the Elric's. "O-Okay," he stammered, trying desperately to regain some equilibrium.

It was one of the most surreal experiences of Arai's life, walking down the street with Mr. Morinozuka. The image of the two of them together must be nuts, he thought; a vagabond kid, clothing all but rags, walking next to a dignified gentleman. Mr. Morinozuka's sharp, expensive suit was stained with grime, but the man didn't seem to care, striding along confidently and occasionally speaking to Arai in low, conversational tones.

"How did Roy get sick?" he asked, as they passed the florist's and turned the corner onto the apothecary's street.

"Um, I guess it was the rain," Arai answered, still in a daze. "He got pretty wet last night."

A faint crease appeared between Mr. Morinozuka's eyebrows. "The rain?"

"Ah... yeah." Belatedly, Arai realized that he couldn't lie to Mr. Morinozuka the way that he had to Momo. The best he could do was hope that the man wouldn't inquire further, but from the piercing look in those black eyes he figured he wasn't getting off that easy.

Sure enough, the taller man stopped, frowning just slightly as he regarded Arai quite seriously. "Where do you stay?"

It was clear that the man thought they'd taken some cheap bunkhouse, with a rotten roof and lazy landlord, and that he was considering doing something about it, too. Arai swallowed down another lump in his throat, feeling about an inch tall right then.

"We... um. Well... I guess... we... kinda been living on the bakery roof." Arai hung his head, sure that now Mr. Morinozuka would see just what kind of loser he'd thought could be his friend. The thought hurt a lot worse than he'd expected, a pang of loss he'd tried to train himself away from. "Please don't tell Fuji," he whispered miserably. "We didn't mean any harm, we just didn't have any money, and there wasn't anywhere else to stay. And the alleys are dangerous at night..."

Oh, he'd blown it now. Of course he had; it had been too good, but right on schedule he'd screwed everything up. If he hadn't wept so thoroughly just a little while earlier, Arai surely would have started crying again right on the spot, simply for disappointing Mr. Morinozuka.

But the man just frowned a little, his eyes still warm and compassionate. "Hmm," he said, face growing thoughtful. Then, "We should get you back to the Elrics before they worry."


	13. Chapter 13

That was it? That was all the man had to say, about Arai and Roy trespassing, basically?

Arai stole several apprehensive looks at Mr. Morinozuka as they walked on, trying to judge whether he might be mad or disappointed, and just wasn't saying anything about it yet. But it didn't seem that way at all, and Arai--being well versed in all the different ways people could be angry or put out with him--felt reasonably sure that if there was something to spot, he would have.

Mr. Morinozuka didn't seem at all upset. He was carrying Arai's bag, striding along like he didn't have a care in the world, with dirt streaks down the knees of a suit that Arai couldn't have afforded in a hundred years.

Was he crazy, maybe? Was everybody in this neighborhood just loony, and passing for normal? Arai didn't really believe that for a second, but it was a tempting explanation. Nobody here acted like he expected. Every time he turned around, they threw him for a loop.

He didn't know how many towns he'd been through, alone and with Roy, where folks seemed more or less the same, from place to place. He'd learned to predict how someone would react to a stranger showing up. People's reaction when they met Roy. The consequences for mistakes, or strangeness, or just reaching the end of people's tolerance.

And so far, nobody here had acted like nearly all the other folks, in every place he'd been. He was about ready to give up expecting anything at all, but it was a hard habit to break.

He was in for a further surprise, when they slipped in the front of the apothecary, sounding the little bell over the door. Al came out to greet them, with a smile for Arai, and then came around the counter to shake Mr. Morinozuka's hand.

"Professor, it's wonderful to see you again. I'm sorry we haven't been able to meet up in awhile."

Mr. Morinozuka inclined his head, smiling faintly. "It's been busy lately. We were sorry to hear about your brother's mishap. He's recovering all right, I hope?"

"You can't keep Edward down for long.". Al glanced back over his shoulder, adding wryly, "Though goodness knows I try. Would you like to say hello to him? I'm sure he'd be pleased to see you."

"If I'm not intruding? I'm afraid I can't stay long.". He held out the bakery bag, tipping a nod to Arai. "I was just accompanying my friend. It seems Fuji was making soup again, and wished to share with everyone."

"Oh!" Al's eyes went wide and eager, as he peeked in the bag. "He didn't make chicken noodle, did he? Brother will be ecstatic."

Al took the bakery bag happily, and led them both back to the room off the lab.  
"Roy doing okay?" Arai asked, feeling his former apprehension moving in again.  
"He's no worse. Fever seems to be coming down some. He's been quiet since you left.". Reaching the doorway, Al called softly to Ed, once again bundled into his chair, and scowling over his notes.

"Brother....look who's come to visit."  
Initially Ed glared up in annoyance, clearly ready to make a pointed comment over the interruption. But seeing Mr. Morinozuka, his eyes got big, and his notes fell to the side, forgotten.

"Professor." He struggled to get up, to greet his visitor as courteously as Al had, but Mr. Morinozuka swiftly moved forward to prevent it.

"Please, don't strain yourself." He took Ed's hand to shake, while Ed stared up at him, polite and deferential in a way he hadn't been with anyone else. In a way Arai wouldn't have guessed him even capable of.

"Is--is Professor Haninozuka with you, too?". Ed craned his head around to see the doorway, somewhat warily, Arai thought, but subsided when Mr. Morinozuka shook his head.

"He's been in mediation for a merger, since last month. I'm afraid he's had very little time to exercise or call on friends at all."

"Ah, that's too bad," said Ed. "Before I got banged up, I was hopin' we could get a class in."

"When you're recovered," Mr. Morinozuka nodded, "call over and we'll arrange a session. If Mitsukuni is unavailable, I'll be happy to work with you."

"Sure thing," Ed nodded. "Thanks, sir."  
Mr. Morinozuka then glanced over at Roy, lying just as he had been when Arai left. His brows pulled together in a not-quite frown, and then smoothed.

"Is there any assistance you need, with him?"  
"We've got everything we need," Ed answered, with a sigh. "It's just figuring out how to use it, for this guy."  
Mr. Morinozuka nodded his understanding, and then turned slightly, so he could see Arai. "He's in excellent hands. Tenacious hands, which do not accept defeat."

"Unless Professor Haninozuka tells us to," Ed muttered under his breath, and Mr. Morinozuka chuckled.  
"That match had to end sometime."

Ed huffed a little, but nodded, and then Al returned from wherever he'd gone with the bakery bag.

"Fuji made enough soup for an army again," he was beaming. "It's too bad you can't stay and enjoy some with us, Professor."

Ed's attention latched onto his brother. "Chicken noodle? He really sent us some?"

"For supper," Al told him, firmly.

"I'll have to take a rain check, I'm afraid," said Mr. Morinozuka. "Fuji's waiting with our order." He turned and tipped a crisp, polite bow to Ed. "I hope you're feeling better soon." Then he straightened and approached Arai, holding out a hand to shake.

"Thank you for talking with me. I look forward to doing it again."

Arai took his hand, registering the warm clasp, the slightly calloused palms, keeping him grounded even as he was momentarily lost in the sincerity of Mr. Morinozuka's gaze.

For a second, it was like the man's strength and calm assurance were being poured into him, shoring up his own cracked and crumbling resources. And just for a bit, he felt an odd certainty that somehow, everything would work out okay. He felt like so long as this man was on his side, believing in him, he couldn't go wrong.

In that one brief moment he could smile, with no strain at all, and return Mr. Morinozuka's sincerity with all his heart.  
"Thank you, sir. Thanks for taking the time. It was a real big help."

For an instant, the man's eyes widened, just a fraction, and it was like nothing else in the whole world existed for either of them. Mr. Morinozuka squeezed his hand, a hint of reassuring pressure, and then carefully let go.  
"You'll be all right. Don't worry."

It seemed like everybody had been telling him that lately, but Arai hadn't truly heard it, or dared to let himself believe it, until that moment. But with Mr. Morinozuka saying it, it was like things couldn't possibly be any other way. The way he said it, Arai couldn't not believe it.

"Yes, sir. Take care, sir." He smiled at the man, feeling strong, and sure, and even though it was just borrowed strength, and some part of him knew the sureness couldn't last, he would appreciate it for all it was worth.

"Can I see you to the door, Professor?" asked Al, and Mr. Morinozuka gave a last nod to Arai, and Ed, and smoothly slipped out to follow Al.

Ed shifted back in his chair, taking up his notes again, and Arai ventured toward the bed, for a closer look at Roy. One of the brothers had removed Roy's battered boots, and pulled a light blanket over him. And though Roy didn't necessarily look any better, it made Arai feel better, just seeing that they'd taken the care.

Carefully, so as not to disturb the quiet, Arai knelt on the floor next to the bed. He was so used to filling Roy in on everything that happened, interpreting people and events for him, and it was disconcerting to find that Roy didn't need it right now. He felt like he'd just been dragged on a wild bumpy roller coaster ride, and for the first time in a long time, Roy hadn't been on it with him.

"He's something else, huh?" Ed mentioned behind him, and Arai twisted about curiously. "The Professor, I mean."

"I didn't know he was a teacher, too," Arai answered. He'd been wondering about that, since him and Mr. Morinozuka first came in.

"Well not so much anymore, I guess." Ed was still scanning through his notes as he talked, frowning here and there. "Him and Professor Haninozuka used to run a kinda school, before the crash. I guess they had to close it, since Professor Haninozuka took up business."

"What business," Arai asked, feeling emboldened by Ed's distraction, and suddenly hungry to know all he could about the man who had just rescued him in the alley.

"He saves companies, I guess you could say. Grew up in one a the world's richest families, got some lucky tip before the crash, and sunk everything they had into gold and precious metals. Now he hunts down good businesses that're gettin' sucked under, and helps set 'em up so they can keep going, and don't have to lay off their people. Goddamn saint, is what he is. Shame he had to close his school, though. Hell of a teacher."

"What did he teach?"  
Ed glanced up, fixed him with a penetrating stare. "Not curious much, are you."

Arai flushed and shook his head. "Sorry, nevermind," but Ed just gave a careless shrug.

"Ain't like it's some big secret. He taught self-defense. His family ran the school for generations, and he kept up the tradition."

Arai peered at him, baffled. "Y--you mean he taught people to fight? Mr. Haninozuka?"

Ed leveled a finger at him, with a razor-sharp grin. "Don't judge the guy by his looks. He's a fuckin' weapon, and don't you forget it. Quick as a snake, and strong as an ox, when he needs to be. Anybody dumb enough to cross him only does it once, and they sure as hell don't walk away from it."

Arai stared. Either Ed was pulling his leg, or they weren't talking about the same guy. "You mean, Mr. Haninozuka, senior?"

"That guy's scary as hell, too," Ed nodded. "Ain't got nothin' on the Professor, though. One match they had, he put his dad in the hospital, and took over the family business. Just in time, too. Pops didn't like the idea of liquidating all their holdings, or buyin' that bakery. Raised holy hell about it, from what I heard. But it sure saved 'em."

Arai sat back, trying to fit all this in with what little he knew about Mr. Haninozuka, and Mr. Morinozuka. Saving companies, that he could readily believe. But try as he might, he just couldn't reconcile his image of the men, with the sort of fearsome fighter Ed was describing. What kind of guy put his own dad in the hospital over an argument? And did Mr. Morinozuka harbor the same violent streak?

He thought of Mr. Morinozuka, kneeling in that alley, gently dabbing Arai's cheeks with his hanky. Bandaging his hand, and calmly fixing tea for Roy.

Roy had been calm with Mr. Morinozuka. And his instincts were never wrong.

"They're good guys," he asserted, and Ed looked at him like he was a dunce.  
"Course they are. If they like you, anyway.". He cocked an eyebrow at Arai, stretched a grin that verged uncomfortably on a leer. "Guess you don't got nothin' to worry about. Professor seems to like you just fine."

"What? No way, he just--." Arai shrank back, feeling his cheeks blaze, and his tongue tie itself in a knot, and Ed lit up like he'd just hit the bullseye, at 100 to 1 odds, for a carnival prize.

"C'mon, he's a helluva catch, y'know. Rich as the devil, got the best lookin' dolls fallin' all over the place for him. Not much for goin' out on the town, but--."

"Brother, for heaven's sake, stop teasing.". It was Al, come to his rescue, waving Ed off emphatically. "Did you forget we have a patient here?"

The brothers bickered mildly, while Arai turned, checking on Roy, and nursing his mortification in silence.  
He knew Ed was teasing, just trying to get a rise out of him, but by sheer accident, he'd struck a nerve that Arai hadn't even been aware of.

Mr. Morinozuka had offered to be friends, he'd looked right at Arai, steady as anything, gotten down on his knees and looked all the way into Arai's heart, and offered his loyalty. And he'd thanked Arai.

Maybe that was something he did for all his friends, who knew, but for Arai it was something special. Something he would treasure for as long as he lived.

It didn't matter that Mr. Morinozuka was rich, or went out for fancy dinners and dancing every night with the Queen of England. Arai's heart didn't skip a beat over things like that. But Mr. Morinozuka's smile, that was something else altogether. Arai would give a lot to see that smile again. And the way Mr. Morinozuka tilted his head as he listened. The way he chose every word, like each one was important. Like he never said anything he didn't mean with every part of himself.

For the first time in his life, Arai realized he was infatuated with someone. Now that Ed had shoved him into seeing it, he couldn't ignore it. He liked Mr. Morinozuka, in a way he hadn't liked anybody before. It was scary, and thrilling, and he knew he had to keep it a secret, because people would get the wrong idea. Thinking it was about the money, or the man's looks and elegant manners, when it was nothing of the sort.

Mr. Morinozuka was noble, and decent, and never in a million years would Arai want him sullied with gossip or indecent leering. He could admire Mr. Morinozuka in his heart, all he wanted. So long as he kept it locked tight inside, it would be safe.


	14. Chapter 14

With Al around to rein his brother in, the evening was a rather quiet affair. Roy still hadn't woken, but both brothers assured Arai that this wasn't a bad sign. "Sleep is a universal healer," Al told him, his smile nearly as comforting as Mr. Morinozuka's. "Better than anything we could give him."

"Still think that antibiotic would be successful," Ed grunted, nose deep in another book.

"Tomorrow," Al said firmly, before disappearing to the corner of the lab doing double service as a kitchen to warm the soup.

Dinner ended up being a makeshift picnic in the room with Roy; Ed was still clearly having difficultly moving around, despite his protests otherwise, and Arai was reluctant to leave Roy's side. He did, however, insist on helping Al with bringing in the food and setting up a small folding table for Ed to use. The older Elric barely noticed the preparations, but as soon as the soup was brought in, his focus shifted immediately.

Taking his own meal on the floor near the head of the bed, Arai was amazed at the singleminded intensity that Ed applied to his food. It would have been funny, had it not also been a bit, well... animal, was the only word that came to mind. Arai had seen men on the brink of starving who were less savage with their meals. The small man seemed to turn into all teeth and gaping maw, devouring everything within reach in an appallingly short stretch of time before claiming a generous second helping.

He also made the most bizarre collection of noises while eating. Grunts and snuffles, punctuating with frequent moans and hums of appreciation. His table manners may have been atrocious, but there was no question that Ed enthusiastically enjoyed every bite of the delicious meal Fuji had provided. Had he only heard the sounds Ed made, without knowing the context, Arai was sure he'd have made an altogether more embarrassing assumption as to their source.

But he had to admit, the meal was certainly equal to Ed's vocal appreciation. It was about the best thing that Arai had ever tasted, and he promised himself he'd be sure and tell Fuji so the next time he saw him. Before he'd quite finished his bowl, Ed was already loudly demanding a third helping, which Al firmly refused.

"You've had plenty, brother," he told him, unmoved by the petulant whines and facial contortions that followed. "Besides, Roy hasn't had any at all yet, and he needs it more than you do."

"But Al! He's sleeeeping..."

A soft, quizzical sound from the bed drew Arai's attention from the brothers' argument, and he glanced over in time to see Roy's brows draw together before his eyelids fluttered open, blinking in mild confusion. Muzzy and unfocused from sleep, he spied Arai and one corner of his mouth twitched slightly. "'rai?" he rasped.

He still looked ill and weak, but Arai couldn't have cared less. "Hey buddy," he grinned, completely forgetting about his dinner as he slid closer to the bed. "How ya feelin', huh?"

Roy thought about it for a long minute, eyes sinking back to half mast. "Sore," he finally whispered. "Bones. Sore."

"That'll be the fever," Ed murmured, and somehow Arai held back the flinch of surprise; he hadn't heard Ed shift nearer. "Perfectly normal."

Roy's gaze shifted over Arai's shoulder to take in Ed, and Arai wondered if he would react with fear to the other man's presence. Roy forgot a lot of things, but he never seemed to forget ill-treatment, and the incident with the needle was still fresh in Arai's mind. But Roy just blew out a sigh that ended on a cough, eyes sagging closed and nostrils flaring. "Food?" he said in a small, hopeful voice.

"Heck yeah, best stuff ever!" Arai enthused, relieved, so relieved, that Roy felt decent enough to want to eat. "Fuji sent chicken soup for us, doesn't that sound great?"

"Mm," Roy agreed sleepily, and opened his eyes again. "Up?"

"Yeah, lemme give you a hand."

By the time Arai had helped Roy scoot up on the daybed so that he was upright enough to eat, Al had already brought in a lap tray and a full bowl of the soup. Roy shivered as slid from under the blanket, his bared shoulders hunching. "Shirt?" he queried, swinging his head around to look for the lost garment.

"Here." Arai heard a grunt and a thump as Ed pushed himself to his feet, swaying for a moment before he regained his balance and pulled his dressing gown off. He hobbled forward one precarious step so that he could pull the gown around Roy's thin shoulders, tucking the ends in to hold more warmth. "Already heated up for ya, how's that?"

For a moment Arai simply stared, amazed anew at how Ed's gruff exterior seemed to hide these curious patches of tenderness. It was an utterly selfless gesture and Arai, touched on Roy's behalf, was turning to offer his thanks to Ed when he saw...

Momo had mentioned clockwork before, but the reference meant nothing to Arai. But with Ed standing before him in just an undershirt and an incongruous pair of white gloves, it suddenly made bizarre sense.

Ed's arm, the right one, the one he'd been favoring, which Arai had assumed was badly injured, was nothing but a mass of metal and gears. Long plates covered most of the workings, cunningly sculpted to resemble the human limb it mimicked, the prosthetic clung to Ed's chest and shoulder like some alien appendage, and though he knew it was unforgivably rude, Arai couldn't help but stare.

Ed stared back with an expression of mingled challenge and resignation. Dimly, Arai recalled Momo's admonition that the clockworks were a touchy subject, and he searched for the right words to apologize for the breach of manners, while Ed's mouth drew into a thin, hard line of reproach.

But Roy drew both their eyes, sitting up straighter and hmming quietly. "Ed," he murmured, studying the patchworked man before him without any surprise or censure in his face. "Ed. Thank you."

Arai ducked his head, ashamed of his own reaction, but not before he saw Ed's stony expression soften to a peculiar half-smile. "Yeah, sure," he answered, shrugging offhandedly. "'S'no problem."

"Warm," Roy affirmed, then turned his attention to the meal before him, making little sounds of happiness that were strangely similar to Ed's even as he dithered over the silverware. Arai didn't quite know where to look- Roy was going to need assistance, but for him to help would require getting around Ed, still standing beside the bed- but then Ed snorted and sat down on the edge of the mattress.

"Finish your dinner," he told Arai, brusque, but he didn't sound angry. "Last thing we need is two of you sick."

There was no way Arai could argue, and risk offending Ed further. He picked up his bowl and stirred his spoon through the soup, still embarrassed by his behavior, and watched from the corner of his eye as Ed leaned over, steadying the tray with his clockwork hand while he grabbed the spoon with the other. "Lemme help," he grunted, and Roy obligingly opened his mouth.

***

Arai scooped up some noodles, resisting the bizarre tug behind his eyeballs that he always felt when there was something he knew he shouldn't stare at, but really wanted to anyway.

That metal arm wasn't just for looks; from the safe corner of his eye, Arai could tell it really worked, as Ed used it to lift the spoonfuls to Roy's mouth. Softly, so quiet he almost thought he was imagining it, came the clicks and whirring of the gears and shiny pistons that worked the arm.

Strange as it was, the arm did function, obeying Ed's will somehow, just as good as anyone else's arm, and Arai had to wonder how somebody could even make such a thing. He wanted so badly to look, to watch it work, but Ed had kept that arm out of sight all this time, for a reason.

Not because it was injured, or banged around like the rest of him. But because....well, Arai didn't know for sure, but that look on Ed's face had said it all. He wasn't proud of that arm. And he'd fully expected Arai to be horrified, or disgusted with it.

Because other people had been. Arai would bet his bottom dollar on that, if he'd had one. And it wasn't sympathy he felt, suspecting that Ed wasn't the type to appreciate sympathy much, anyway. It was more a feeling of....understanding. Knowing what it was like to keep secrets you weren't too proud of, because at the end of the day, it was just easier that way. Easier to get along with people, when they thought you were just like them. Easier than being an outsider, trying at every turn to get past the wall of wariness in people's eyes, like rotten bad luck was contagious, or something. Like they could catch it, just from letting you hang around.

And with that in mind, he vowed he wouldn't stare at Ed, or his clockwork arm. He wouldn't ask dumb questions, or treat him any different than he had before. He would return the favor Al and Ed had done him, by not judging, or making a big deal that Ed was different. They'd just go on as before, and Arai would pretend like he hadn't seen the arm at all.

Or so he thought, before Ed piped up again.

"It ain't magic, and it ain't perfect. The mainsprings get kinked up, an' if it gets wet, I'm pretty much fucked. Gotta tinker on it a lot, so it's better than nothin', that's all."

Arai kept his head down and nodded, fishing a cut carrot out with his spoon, and Roy hmmed drowsily, for another bite.

Ed huffed. "You might as well just ask. Everybody does, sooner or later. Go on, just get it over with."

Thinking it would just aggravate the man, if he kept trying to ignore him, Arai glanced up. He had a bunch of questions, actually, but figured he'd best pick the least obnoxious one.

"Is it really a clockwork? You hafta wind it up?"

Ed looked surprised for a second, then he cocked his head thoughtfully. "You get anything about mechanics? Kinetic and potential energy?"  
Arai swallowed his carrot. "Nope."

"It works on the _principle_ of a clockwork," said Ed. "I used to hafta wind all these gears up, a hundred times a day. But that's more fuckin' trouble than it's worth, and Al--cos he's a goddamn genius with mechanics--said, why don't we make them self-winding? He fixed up some extra gears, that wind up when I use my elbow, an' shoulder, and all these counter-tension wires, that transfers the torque out to all the secondary assemblies. Said he got the idea from a transfer case in a truck. Pretty slick, huh?"

Arai may as well have been hearing Greek, but Ed looked proud of it, so he nodded dutifully. "That's real smart."

"It don't work as good on my leg, since I don't use that so much. Once I get to walkin' around, it's good, but I gotta remember to work my knee some first, or it just hangs there."

"You got a leg like that too?". Good grief, how unlucky could a guy get, he wondered? Suddenly, his own problems weren't looking quite so bad anymore.

All at once, Ed went from bold as brass, to a chillier, quieter attitude, and Arai feared he'd said the wrong thing, somehow.

He ducked his head, and attended his soup. "Sorry. None of my business."  
Up on the bed, Roy made a vaguely impatient noise, reaching for the bowl that Ed was ignoring, and Ed sighed.

"Here, you wanna drink what's left? Yeah, there ya' go, two hands. Careful you don't spill."

Ed watched Roy, gloomy, but attentive, and from his hunched posture, Arai stole looks at Ed.

"I done some real dumb shit, in my life. Only smart thing I ever did, was havin' Al for a brother. And that was just dumb luck."

"That's nonsense, and you know it, brother," Al chided softly, entering the room with a tray of drinks and a plate of cookies. "If it weren't for you, I'd have wasted away in a sanitarium, years ago."

Ed looked up sharp at that. "That wasn't ever gonna happen. And it never will. You take your medicine yet?"

"Just did," said Al, offloading the glasses of milk and cookies, and gathering the empty bowls and utensils on the tray. "Now drink your milk--no need for that face, you can dunk the cookies in it--and we can call it a night."

Ed wrinkled his nose in disgust at the milk, and then gave a sly look toward Roy, who was eyeing the cookies hopefully.  
"Hey, you like milk?"

"Not an option," said Al. "He gets the juice. Milk will only make his congestion worse."

"But Jesus, it's horrible. Why do you force me to drink this?"

Al handed off a glass and some cookies to Arai with a fond, harassed sort of smirk. "We have this discussion every night. You'd think it would get old."

"Thanks, sir. That's real kind of you," Arai said, with his warmest smile. It was years since anybody offered him milk and cookies. Not since that sweet old lady who'd given him the scarf, back when he was still a kid, practically. Back when he'd only just started to discover how rough and lonely life could get, and still used to cry himself to sleep most nights, and then wake up cold, hungry, lost, and cry some more.

Except for finding Roy to keep him company, it had been mostly downhill since then. But he'd toughed up and gotten so used to hard knocks that they scarcely even hurt him anymore.

But the upside, was that he was extra grateful, when anything nice came along. Kindnesses that most people would've considered small, were huge in his eyes, and even long after he'd moved on somewhere else, just remembering a thing like milk and cookies, and the gift of a knitted scarf, might be enough to keep him going, when nothing else could.

"They were a gift from a customer," said Al, about the cookies. "Maybe a little stale by now..."

Arai shook his head. Far as he was concerned, there were no bad cookies. "They're delicious, right Roy?"

Roy blinked up, from where he'd been gnawing one to crumbs, and Ed chuckled and brushed him off, with a lopsided grin. "Mmm. Fanks," he said around the crumbs.

After the bedtime treat, Arai helped get all the dishes back upstairs to the kitchen, and even offered to wash up, for Al. But Al waved him off kindly, saying they'd all had a long day, and he'd just as soon turn in, and deal with cleanup in the morning.

He looked worn-down under the politeness; a lot quieter and less alert than earlier in the day, and Arai recalled that earlier discussion about medicine, and the sanitarium. Was Al tired, because he was sick, Arai wondered? He knew a sanitarium was someplace you went when you were sick for a real long time, and sometimes weren't expected to ever get better.

He hated to think he might be robbing this kind, generous man of his rest, if he was getting over a sickness like that, so he just nodded and said, yeah, long day, and didn't do anything that might hold up Al from getting to bed.

After some digging around in an old hope chest, Al came up with a load of blankets, and Arai quickly scooped them from his arms, declaring they'd make the perfect bed.  
"Shucks, I could sleep on the pavement in the middle a' Times Square right now," he said brightly. "Guess I'll be out like a light pretty soon."

They trooped back downstairs, to find Ed folding his left leg up, with his real arm, while Roy lay on his side watching, in sleepy curiosity. Ed lifted up his thigh, with a muffled ratcheting of gears, and then took hold of his shin, and pulled it in, to make his knee bend a few times, grunting some with the effort.

"What I get for sittin' around on my ass all day," he muttered. "Guess that oughta do the job, though.". He stood, wobbling slightly at first, and then grinned at Al. "Man, I can't wait to get back to the Professor's class. He's gonna smear my ass all over the floor, but it sure as hell beats goin' soft around here."

Al just smiled, and nodded tiredly. "Don't hesitate to wake us up, if you or Roy need anything," he told Arai. "If he starts coughing a lot, or his breathing gets rough, or his fever goes back up, come get us right away, all right?"

"Yes sir, good night."  
"I'll be back down to check on him in a few hours, so don't be afraid if you hear me creeping around. I'll try not to wake you."

"Please, I don't mind a bit," Arai shook his head.  
"Sleep tight, big guy," Ed told Roy, and Roy waved a hand, lazily.  
"Bugs bite," he answered back.

Ed frowned curiously, and then apparently figured out the old rhyme, and chuckled, "Yeah, I gotcha. Okay."

Once the brothers were off up the stairs, Arai spread out some blankets for a pallet, on the floor next to Roy's bed, then kicked off his boots and pulled another couple blankets over him, for covers.

Roy squirmed himself over to the edge of the mattress, peering down at Arai, over the blanket he had tucked under his chin.  
"You likin' that bed all right? Pretty cushy, huh?"

Roy just blinked at him, slow and heavy; mildly puzzled, as he often was, and with just a hint of something that Arai had never nailed down for certain, but took for a kind of sadness. The way Arai himself sometimes felt, seeing a rusty abandoned rail car, all by itself on a snowy side-track. Or hearing a bird call, out on a still evening pond, with no other birds to answer.

"You okay?" he asked. "Need me to get something for you?"  
Roy blinked down at him again, sniffled and wormed his hand up from his blanket, to rub his reddened nose.

" 'rai? Shine?" he asked.  
Arai knew what Roy was asking for, was amazed every time he'd asked before, that the man even remembered it, and shrugged in embarrassment.

"I dunno what you wanna hear that for. You know I can't sing worth a darn.". He'd dredged the song out of his memory, on a long miserable night months ago, when Roy had been scared and sad, and Arai couldn't sleep for the pain of his bruises.

He'd remembered how his mom had used to sing it to him, when he was a little kid. How all the world became a safe, snug place when she sang him to sleep. He'd cobbled the words together as best he could remember them, hummed the ones he couldn't. And by the time he'd gotten through the second repetition, Roy had drifted off.

Since then, he'd asked Arai for the song only a couple more times. When he looked sad and uncertain like now. When the night was long and dark, and none too hopeful.

One of these days, Arai thought he should get around to learning all the words.

Roy watched him, patient and expectant, and with a sigh, Arai lay back and gave in.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are gray...". He kept his voice almost to a whisper, so it wouldn't carry upstairs. But even this hushed, off-key rendition suited Roy okay. His dark eyes slipped slowly closed, and the faintest hint of a smile tipped the corner of his mouth.

Arai closed his own eyes, mumbling the words he remembered, humming the ones that didn't come to him, feeling his body sink deep into the soft warm blankets, and just for a little while, feeling all the burdens of life slide from his shoulders.

"...please don't take my sunshine away..."


	15. Chapter 15

Arai was dreaming again.

The same dream, his recurring favorite one, lazing on the river bank at sunset, crickets singing the night in. The grass was thick and deep at his back, comfortable as any bed, and he dug his bare toes into it, luxuriating in the feel as he smiled to himself. It was always perfect here, always just right, with the sky streaked orange and purple above, and long green shadows below.

Only something felt different, this time. Nothing alarming, or bad, just a sense that he wasn't alone. As if someone was sitting right behind him, just out of his peripheral vision. It was strange, a break from the sameness of the dream, but somehow that presence only added to the sense of peace and reassurance that always came with it, and Arai didn't think anything more of the difference.

He had the feeling, just as the drowsy edges of sleep were slipping away, that whoever was there was about to speak, but a sudden yawn overtook him and just like that, the dream was gone, and he was back in the waking world.

Arai blinked, bringing his eyes into focus. The room was brighter, sunlight spilling through the doorway from the outer room, and he could hear someone moving around out there; glass clinking, the dry shuffle of papers. Still a little groggy, he wondered if maybe Al, or even Ed, were making breakfast.

But a soft murmur from closer by caught his ear, a subtle buzz clearly intended not to travel far. Not conspiratorial, but more intimate, and at the same time carelessly unconcerned about being overheard. With some surprise, he recognized Roy's voice in that conversation.

Pushing back his blankets, a little more awake now, Arai was appalled to realize how late it must be. Past nine, at least; why hadn't he been woken? A conditioned alarm was sounding in his head; sleeping late was never countenanced, and here he was indebted to so many people already. It felt like the height of ingratitude to rest abed while everyone else in the world was up and about. Heart pounding, he was set to leap up and all but demand to be given some work, when he realized that the conversation he'd been hearing was practically beside him.

He'd slept between Roy's bed and the wall, away from the side of the bed nearest the door where Ed's chair was. Since Ed had mentioned coming down in the night, it seemed only fair to give him enough space to walk without the risk of stumbling over his sleeping body, and the small space really wasn't any worse than a lot of places he'd stayed. Better than most, really.

But from the sounds of things, Ed was back in his chair again. Peeking over the edge of the bed, Arai's eyes widened in surprise when he saw Ed's golden blond head leaning in close to Roy's. They were both staring fixedly at a book, Ed murmuring something while Roy nodded, repeating a word here and there in his soft, deep voice.

Despite his display of consideration last night, Arai would never in the world have pegged Ed as being the type to handle Roy this way. Al, sure; Al had already proven himself to be a sensitive fellow, with an instinctive understanding of how to deal with Roy's skittish impulses. But Ed was so brash and loud. How then, was Roy leaning in toward him, his body language speaking of complete trust, and humming with contentment?

Moreover, he saw, Ed wasn't just talking down to him. Now that he was sitting up, he could hear better, and whatever it was they were discussing, Ed wasn't dumbing it down one bit. Sure, he was speaking a little slower, and making sure to explain, if his frequent gestures toward the picture plate in the book were any indication, but Arai didn't think he'd ever seen anyone approach Roy as though he weren't stupid or feebleminded. Even as nice as Fuji and Momo were to Roy, they always seemed to work from the assumption that there was something a little wrong in his head.

Thankfully, he must've kept the bafflement from his face, or maybe it appeared like that 'just woke up' look, because Ed glanced over and saw him there, and gave him a tight little grin. "Hey kid," he said. "Feelin' better?"

Roy twisted around too, his pale face breaking out in a wide smile. "Arai!" he declared. "Wake up!"

Roy's smiles always made Arai smile back. "Yeah, I'm awake," he told Roy. "Feeling very good too, thank you," he added for Ed. "I'm sorry I slept so long."

Ed snorted in reply. "Not hurtin' anything, getting your rest. Kid, you were out so hard you never even heard me come down here twice during the night. Stayed down here that last time, too. Roy here kept me company." He turned that strange, feral grin of his on Roy, and the dark haired man beamed back.

"Read books!" he said gleefully, and Arai knew how much that must have delighted him. Roy never could seem to get the hang of reading, but he loved books fiercely. A few times when they'd been lucky enough to work for someone who had a few, and who didn't mind them looking at them, Arai had read to him a little. But while he could do it, not having the opportunity to practice made Arai slow, especially when reading aloud. Not that Roy cared; he'd listened with rapt attention, soaking in every word. And while he forgot a lot of things, stories and poems (and yes, songs) were some of the few things he retained with uncanny accuracy. He'd caught Roy mumbling fragments of an Emily Dickinson poem once, while they slogged down a logging road in West Virginia.

"Hey, that's great!" Arai enthused. "I'll bet Mr. Elric's got a whole bunch of great books." Surprisingly, Ed looked both proud and modest at the statement. Roy just nodded his head in excitement.

"Read," he stated. "'bout cats!"

Why Ed's expression should suddenly change from pleased to something more cagey, and just a little guilty, Arai had no idea. Maybe he didn't want anyone to know he liked animals? Whatever it was, Arai really didn't care. Roy was happy, and that meant a whole heap to him. When people treated Roy well, it made Arai's world a little brighter, as if they'd just done something real nice just for him.

"Can I help with breakfast?" It only seemed right to offer, since they'd put him and Roy up overnight, and let him sleep in and everything. But Ed just laughed, and Roy gave him a wide-eyed stare.

Shaking his head, the elder Elric told him, "Kid, we ate about an hour and a half ago. Sorry to have let you sleep through it, but Al thought you needed the rest as much as Roy, here."

"Oh. Oh gosh, I really didn't mean to be so lazy!" How late was it? Arai couldn't even remember a time when he'd slept in past breakfast, even when he overslept. "Guess I'll wait and help out with lunch then. What can I do in the meantime?"

Ed looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "You'll eat your damn breakfast," he stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Arai simply boggled. "But I missed breakfast."

The look Ed shot back was equal parts confusion and annoyance. "Fuck, you think it's got a time limit? You woke up, you eat; it's the most important damn meal of the day, you're not gonna miss it. Hey, Al!" he shouted over his shoulder, and a few seconds later the pleasant faced young man appeared in the doorway. His eyes fell on Arai, still sitting befuddled behind the bed, and he nodded a greeting.

"Ah, good morning! Glad to see you're up. I bet you're hungry, right?" Al made an apologetic face. "We ate without you, but I managed to save some food from my brother's bottomless stomach for you."

"Hey!" Ed objected. "It's not like we don't have any more!"

"You don't need four helpings, brother," Al said smoothly. "You wonder why we never seem to have enough to pay for..." He paused, catching himself as Ed's face darkened and his brother's bright gaze dropped to the floor. "Well," he went on, more subdued, "we should just start being more careful about our bills."

"Yeah," Ed mumbled. "But get the kid some food, awright?"

"Of course." With another rueful smile for Arai, Al disappeared back out into the lab.

A heavy, sinking feeling settled in Arai's gut at the exchange. These two were struggling, financially, and he and Roy couldn't be anything but a burden to them. Two more mouths, medicine he'd bet they could ill afford to part with, unpaid for...

It suddenly stuck him that he hadn't heard Roy coughing at all since he woke, and although the man didn't have the color he normally did, overall he seemed better than before. He wanted to ask, but lingering guilt over what he'd just heard stayed his tongue. That, and the look of worry in Roy's eyes, as he peered over at Ed, still hunched in his chair and looking unhappy.

"Ed?" he murmured. "Okay?"

The fierce face that lifted to meet his friend's would have made plenty of people blanch and apologize, but Roy just stared back at him, unfazed and concerned. Ed's eyes blazed for a moment before the fires in them were banked, and he sighed tiredly. "Yeah, buddy, m'okay." The cocky grin slid back into place, but Arai would've sworn it was nothing more than a thin facade. "Wanna look at that book some more?"

***

Roy's attention was quickly fastened back on Ed's book, and Ed seemed determined not to look anywhere else. It left Arai feeling a little unnecessary, like he was just sitting around when he could be useful someplace else.

So he pushed back the blankets, folded them all up neatly, set them on the foot of Roy's bed, and pulled on his shoes, tightening up the bits of twine and rag that kept them more or less in one piece. He knew they looked disreputable, but they were well broken in, and not uncomfortable. Unless it was wet, or freezing cold out. Eventually he was going to walk them to nothing; one of these days they'd bust out in holes that were past his ability to patch up, or knot together, but since shoes didn't exactly grow on trees, he'd have to keep working on them as long as possible.

"I'm gonna--um--see if Mr....er, Al needs a hand," he mentioned, climbing to his feet.  
Already absorbed in his book, Ed spared him a brief, distracted glance. "Yeah, alright."


	16. Chapter 16

Arai shuffled out to the lab, where Al was on the phone, a half-assembled tray of food on the counter next to him.  
"Ah, yes, I'm sure it's a trial, Mr. Watanuki. Yes, it's not--." He broke off, listening to the caller with a little smile that combined patience and secret amusement.

Catching sight of Arai in the doorway, he waved him in, and gave an apologetic shrug. "No, I'm certain you do the best you can under the circumstances. But not to worry, I'll have the remedy ready as soon as you get here."

Arai slipped in, cautiously edging around the lab tables, with all their complex instruments and precariously balanced glass contraptions, worried that his mere presence could cause something to explode or topple over, while Al chuckled into the phone.

"I'm sure you would know better than anyone, sir. Nevertheless, we do value your loyal patronage. Of course. Thank you sir, see you soon."

Al hung up the phone, and turned to Arai, still smiling. "Sorry you had to wait. Sometimes, I think Mr. Watanuki just needs a sympathetic ear."  
That name rang a bell for Arai, from his deliveries with Momo, though he couldn't place it offhand.

"No, it's fine. I know you're busy enough, and shorthanded, Mr. Elric. Anything you need a hand with, I sure would like to help out.". He hadn't forgotten how tired Al had looked the night before, like he was spread way too thin, and couldn't hide it anymore. If he couldn't prevent that from happening again, then at the very least, he'd try to pull his own weight and not add to Al's burdens.

"That's very thoughtful. Though I don't know how I feel, about putting a customer to work."

"I'd just like a fair trade, is all, sir. I mean--" he glanced down at his beat-up shoes, and shrugged. "I know doing chores and stuff ain't the same worth as doctoring, or medicines. And it doesn't make up for having me and Roy underfoot. But it's all I got, I reckon. So I'll do the best I can, anything you need."

Al cocked his head, his smile gone thoughtful. "Fair trade, eh? You sound like Brother." Then he looked back to the breakfast tray, as if just remembering it. "Ah. Well, none of us can give our best effort on an empty stomach, right? Why don't you pull up that stool and eat first, while I prepare this order for Mr. Watanuki."

Arai nodded, and seated himself before the tray, set on a clear space by the lab sink, near a wide set of curtained windows. "Thanks a lot, for saving me some, sir. It looks delicious."

"Consider it a fair trade," said Al, sorting out bottled powders and measuring spoons on the other lab table. "It's not often that Mr. Fuji is inspired to make his chicken soup. It was quite a rare treat, for us."

Arai wasn't sure how that worked out, since he had nothing to do with the soup besides carrying it out the bakery door, and not far beyond that. But Al was worlds smarter than him, and if he was satisfied it was fair, then Arai had no grounds to argue.

He dug into his eggs and oatmeal, eating as quickly as he could without making a mess, while Al measured things on a little brass scale, mixed things in a beaker, and ground other things in a mortar. He was focused and precise, as he worked, though he still had the attention to spare, to make friendly chit-chat with Arai.

"You know, to be honest, I'm glad you and Roy are here. Brother gets fractious when he's inactive for very long. Looking after Roy gives him something else to focus on, besides being confined. So I'm grateful, actually, that the two of you showed up."

"Roy looked lots better this morning," Arai offered. "You sure were right about him getting some shut-eye."  
Al nodded. "I'm sorry we were wrong about the cough medicine, though. Normally we're very careful about what we give a patient. We hadn't imagined he'd react to such a low dose, and I feel badly that our assumption caused him needless suffering."

"But. You made it better, yeah? I mean, you didn't just let him suffer, you tried to fix it."

Al looked up from his work with a puzzled look, as if Arai had just pointed out that water was wet, or toast was made from bread. "Why wouldn't we? It's the least we could do."

Arai shrugged. Far be it from him to correct the guy, though he knew for a fact that not everybody--doctors included--thought it was so simple as that.  
"I'm thankful. And I know Roy is too, even if he doesn't say much."

Al studied him a moment longer, a curious crease between his eyebrows. His mouth drew down a little at the corners, and he looked like he might ask one of those questions Arai didn't especially like answering. He took a breath, then hesitated, and then looked back to the compound he was fixing, and let the breath out.

"First, do no harm. That's part of the oath all doctors are supposed to take. Brother and I might only be licensed as pharmacists, but we take that oath with utmost seriousness. The people who come to us for help, they depend on us for that, at the very least." He lifted the mortar and gave it a little shake, and then dumped the powder inside, onto the brass scale.  
"Hm, look at that. Just right," he smiled.

Arai, having never seen the actual making of medicines first-hand before, thought it was an awful lot like watching Fuji bake a complicated pastry.  
"Don't you ever use recipes, when you make medicine?" he asked, suddenly curious.

"Formulas," Al answered. "Some medicinal compounds are standard formulation, so they're the same ratios, in combination. Some must be tailored to suit the patient, based on age, weight, metabolism, and other factors. Those formulas, I make sure to write down. "

Al really talked like a doctor, when he got going, Arai saw. Just like Ed's talk about mechanics and clockworks, it all sailed clean over his head. But then Al grinned.  
"This is a tailored formulation, but I've made it so many times I have it memorized."

He tipped the powder from the scale tray into a small brown glass bottle, counted out eyedroppers of liquid from a few other bottles, corked the mixture and shook it vigorously. Arai was curious whether the person he made it for was sick very often, or if this was one of those health tonics, like he always saw in the papers, containing nasty things like cod-liver oil. Somebody had given him a dose from one of those once, and he'd rather have died.

But he didn't wonder long, because just as Al was done checking the contents, the front door bell of the shop sounded, followed by sounds of scuffling and muffled muttering.

"....sakes, don't see why you have to--knock that off. I've _got_ it, didn't I say I'm fine? You're such a brute, let go already!"

Al smiled broadly, and strode from the room. "Mr. Watanuki, you're just in time."  
The same voice answered, though in a less persnickety tone than before. "Dr. Elric, I deeply apologize for putting you to the trouble. I told her to slow down yesterday, that she'd feel awful this morning, but does she listen? It's like arguing with a fence post."

"It's quite alright, Mr. Watanuki. I'm sure Miss Yuuko is grateful for your help today."

Arai didn't really mean to eavesdrop, but that name set off a lightbulb in his head. Miss Yuuko was the mysterious, impressively buxom owner of that peculiar curio shop, he and Momo had delivered to the other day. And Mr. Watanuki, he remembered her and Momo chatting about him. Momo had teased that he wouldn't approve, about the frosted petit-fours she'd ordered.

From the sound of it, Mr. Watanuki didn't approve of a few things Miss Yuuko did.

"This was all the cash she sent me with," Mr. Watanuki sighed, apologetically. "She said there's something else she's waiting to send you, to settle her account. Of course she wouldn't _tell_ me what it is, or when it's coming. I'm terribly sorry."

"That's perfectly all right," Al soothed. "Miss Yuuko has always been prompt about settling with us, please don't be concerned. Is there anything else I can get you?

**

"No, no, we're fine." Mr. Watanuki sounded surprisingly put out, despite how accommodating Al was being with him, and to Arai's surprise, the man added sharply, "What, do you have something you want to say?"

He hadn't been speaking to Al, as Arai had assumed; instead a deeper, quieter voice than Mr. Watanuki's rumbled a brief reply. It was too low for Arai to catch, but whatever he said really must've been something, for Mr. Watanuki immediately began sputtering and squawking. "We don't need that!" he yelled, scornful and indignant. "Why would you say something like that, and embarrass me? You great moron... no, shut up, shut up! You should be grateful- grateful, I tell you!- that the benevolent Watanuki-sama puts up with your brutish behavior and... what? No, you lout, Yuuko does not have me by... did you just say...? Argh! Buy that yourself, I'm not having anything to do with it! In fact, I'm leaving-- don't open the door for me, I'm not a child! Stupid Doumeki!..."

The tirade continued, fading but not quite vanishing even as the door closed, Mr. Watanuki's voice ringing out shrill admonitions as he and his companion departed. Arai stared at the doorway to the front of the apothecary with wide-eyed amazement, not sure if he should laugh or be horrified. A moment later Al returned to the back, his lips pressed together tightly as he tried to contain his own laughter. Drifting in from the side room, Ed's voice drawled, "He was in fine form today."

Al let loose his amusement in an explosive snort. "Shizuka was winding him up again. I thought Watanuki was going to have an aneurysm."

"He's too high-strung," Ed agreed. "Gotta be bad for his blood pressure, and I'll bet he's working on an ulcer, too. He should learn to calm down a little, let shit roll off of him. Right, Al?"

Arai noticed the younger Elric's lips twitching again, and Al winked at him as he replied, "Right, brother."

Still chuckling silently, he moved back to the counter, pulling down a few glass vials before he began gathering various other bottles filled with a variety of powders and liquids. Setting them on the counter next to the scale, he turned and fixed Arai with a speculative stare. "So. Fair trade, hmm?"

Arai straightened up on his stool. "Yes sir. What can I do to help out?"

Al tapped the counter with a long finger. "Well, there's a package I've been expecting for a couple of days now, a shipment of sulfonamide since we're running low, and it should arrive any time now. Would you mind heading over to the Post Office to see if it's in?"

"If you can give me directions, I'd be happy to," Arai told him, clearing away his dishes and making a mental note to clean them- and the others sitting in the sink- as soon as he returned from the errand.

Al grinned at him. "Splendid. I'll call ahead, let Miss Fujioka know you're coming on my behalf, so there isn't any problem."

While Al jotted down directions on a scrap of paper, Arai stepped into the side room to let Roy know he'd be out for a bit. With his friend's new fascination with Edward, he wasn't sure if it was necessary, but by now it was habit to keep him informed of his whereabouts. It made both of them feel more secure.

The elder Elric was no longer reading aloud, but was instead immersed in his own study. Not that Roy seemed to mind; Ed had perched on the edge of the bed, and the bigger man was half-curled around him, dark eyes sleepy but curious as he peered underneath Ed's arm at the words he couldn't understand. He appeared perfectly content, and for a moment Arai was loathe to disturb them. But Ed glanced up, noticed him hovering in the doorway and closed the book, which drew Roy's attention up as well. Seeing Arai there, he smiled, and tried to sit up.

"Hey now..." Ed turned, pressing a hand against his shoulder. "Just sit tight, okay? Don't want you gettin' dizzy." He swiveled back to face Arai and, taking in the confusion on his face, shrugged. "He was starting to wheeze again, so I gave him something to open up his bronchi. It's all right," he assured Arai, who suddenly felt as though his heart had been seized in an icy fist, and had probably gone a bit pale, "it's not the sort of thing he should have a bad reaction to. And I'm sitting right here, I ain't gonna leave his side for even a minute. If I've so much as got to piss, I'll call Al in to stay with him."

Those fierce gold eyes were filled with sincerity, and with some difficulty, Arai nodded, forcing down the surge of panic. He reminded himself that Roy was okay, in large part because yesterday Ed had been there for him, and he definitely got the impression that Ed wouldn't let anything bad happen to Roy without a damn good fight. And Ed certainly gave the impression of being one hell of a fighter.

So he summoned up a grin for Roy, who was blinking between the two of them in mild confusion. "Just going' to pick something up for Mr. Al," he told him cheerfully. "You wait here, and play nice with Ed, yeah? I'll be back before you can say 'jackrabbit.'"

Roy frowned at him. "Arai, go?"

"Yeah, but I'm comin' back quick. I always come back, don't I?"

Roy's head bobbed. "Jackrabbit," he said decisively, with a mischievous smirk Arai hadn't seen in days, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Aw man, you got me," he chuckled. "Alright, be good, okay? An' I'll be back fast."

A soft whine issued from Roy's throat, but he accepted the announcement without any apparent fear. Some of the constriction eased in his chest, and seated beside Roy, Ed winked at him.

"Don't worry. We'll take good care of him."

Arai nodded, backing out the door. As he turned, he caught Ed reaching out to ruffle Roy's hair from the corner of his eye, and almost turned back, stuck by an unease he couldn't quite place. It wasn't as though it was a threatening move; far from it, it was the kind of affectionate gesture he'd seen any number of times before. But never directed toward himself, or Roy. It left a funny feeling in his stomach.

But Al was in front of him, handing over the slip of paper with the directions, and a small handful of bills in case there was postage due, and he couldn't think about what he'd seen now. He had a job to do. But all Arai wanted to do was hurry off on his errand so that he could get back fast, and hope that whatever was making his stomach flop crazily about would disappear once he walked through the door again.


	17. Chapter 17

He was too preoccupied when he first left the apothecary, to notice the outdoors at all, but the streets and sidewalks were bustling with people going about their everyday business, and Arai soon realized he'd better pay attention, or else risk getting knocked over.

Head down Water Street, left on Maple. Studiously following Al's directions, he passed a laundromat, a Five-And-Dime, and a penny arcade. Crossed at the light on State, detouring around the hot dog vendor just setting up his cart. Across State was the entrance to a nice, tidy little park with big oak trees, blazing with autumn color, some benches, and a little gazebo he could just see, up on a gentle rise of green grass.

Great place for a picnic, he thought. Even though it was chilly, the day was brilliant and sunny, and Arai couldn't help thinking how Roy might enjoy this little park. And how he'd especially enjoy a hot dog or two.

He'd have to bring Roy over here, once he was feeling better. They could sit in the grass awhile, enjoy the sun, just like the old man he spotted sitting on one of those benches, reading his paper. It wasn't often that him and Roy had the chance to indulge in leisure like that, since they were always either working, or on the move. But Arai was coming to realize that as much as Al, Ed, Fuji, and Momo had helped them out, he might as well look forward to being here a bit, to repay all that help. So surely somewhere in that time, there would be a chance for an hour or so in the park.

But first things first, he reminded himself. Roy had to get better, and before that, Arai had an errand to run. No time for dawdling. With just a smidgen of reluctance, he moved on past the park entrance.

The next block down was the post office, three stone steps up to a whitewashed brick edifice, fronted with a double set of glass doors. On his way up, Arai spied a lady in a long brown coat and neat brown hat heading out, arms loaded with mail parcels, and hurried to open the door for her.

"Watch your step, ma'am," he urged, sweeping his cap off, as she stepped through. "Looks like you have a handful, there."

"Thank you," the lady smiled. "I wasn't sure how I'd get past that door." She peered past him, gauging the steps, and Arai realized there might be trouble, between the barely-balanced pile of packages she carried, and her high-heeled shoes.

"Here, can I help you carry that down?" he offered, but the lady--whose hat and coat looked brand new, and not inexpensive-- gave a small nervous laugh.  
"That's a kind offer, but I'm afraid if I let go of these, I'll never get them together again."

"Let me give you a hand down, then," he said, putting a steadying hand under her elbow. "That okay?"  
He didn't miss her quick glance at his ragged clothes and tousled hair, or the flicker of uncomfortable indecision, before civility made her nod once, stiffly. "Thank you."

He made a point to walk no closer than necessary, and to pull his hands back as soon as they reached the bottom step, and when they did, the lady's smile was more genuine. Knowing there were plenty of people who acted just as disreputable as he probably looked, Arai didn't hold it against her, but just grinned and waved her on.

"There ya go. Have a nice day, ma'am. Be careful where you're going."  
"Thank you, sir. You have a pleasant day, as well."

He hadn't expected anything more than that, and when he hurried back up the steps and into the Post Office, he certainly didn't expect to be greeted with applause, from the man standing inside.

"Outstanding, simply wonderful! And they say chivalry is dead! Haruhi, did you see how this gentleman helped Mrs. Clark? I was just on my way to do the same, but he stepped up, perfectly in time."

Arai's first response was to blink up at the sign over the front counter, which plainly read, 'Post Office', just to make sure he'd come into the right place. Then he blinked at the man praising him. Tall, fair-haired, dressed in a fine suit and tie to rival Mr. Morinozuka's, and leather shoes shined to a high professional polish.

"Um. Hi," he smiled weakly.  
"Come, come in! Welcome to the Second Branch Post Office. This is your first time here, yes? Would you like to send a letter? Purchase stamps? I can show you our collection of two-cent stamps, and we also have a selection of lovely postcards, only--."

"Tamaki," sighed a dark-haired young woman in crisp white smock, over at the counter, and the man (was he insane, Arai wondered?) went instantly quiet, and spun around, with an attentive, eager look.  
"Yes, Haruhi?"  
"Remember how you promised you wouldn't hassle the customers, if I let you stay here?"

"Ah! Yes of course, but you see, I was only--."  
"You're doing it again," the young woman interrupted quietly, giving the man a quelling stare, before sighing and turning to Arai. "I'm sorry, did you need something?"

"But Haruhi," the man attempted, suddenly crestfallen.  
"Shh," Haruhi answered with a sharp sidelong look, before turning expectantly back to Arai, who glanced between them, wondering if it was all right to answer now.

"I um. I came to pick up a package? For uh, Al? I mean, Alphonse Elric? I was supposed to see Miss Fujioka?"

"Yes, he called about you. You're Arai, then?" The young woman was brisk, but not at all unkind. In fact, when she wasn't shushing Tamaki she had a nice little smile, and Arai smiled back, encouraged.

"Yeah, that's me."  
"I'll be just a second getting the package," she nodded, pushing her heavy-rimmed glasses up her nose, before turning for the narrow door behind the counter.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Tamaki looking after Miss Fujioka with a peculiar sort of longing in his expression. Not wishing to attract anymore attention to himself, Arai very quietly waited for his package to emerge, figuring he could find out the story with these odd people from Momo, sometime later.

But then Tamaki spoke up. "She says I cannot learn to work in a post office, since I've never had to work anywhere before." He was still looking off where Miss Fujioka had gone, with a fond, slightly sad smile, and his voice was just loud enough that Arai could catch it.

"But I will show her that I _can_ learn. And this will be the best branch office in town." He turned his little smile on Arai, adding with a wink. "It already has the most charming postmistress in town, so I think it has not too much farther to go."

"Oh," Arai nodded, having learned it was generally best just to agree with crazy people, until he could go on his way. "Good luck with that," he added, and Tamaki beamed.

"I have a good feeling about it. And my good feelings are seldom ever wrong."

"Here we are, sorry it took so long. If you could just sign the receipt slip." Haruhi swept back to the counter with a plain paper parcel, producing a pen from behind her ear, and Arai hurried up to sign for it.

"Will that be everything?" she asked, as Arai scrawled out his signature. "You need stamps, paper, anything else today?"  
"Not today, thanks," Arai grinned.

"Alright, well tell Doctor Elric thanks for his patronage. Have a nice day."  
The door opened behind him, and as Tamaki offered effusive greetings to the next patron, Haruhi sighed quietly. Though her sigh was not without a certain look of fond exasperation, Arai realized, and found himself looking forward to what Momo might tell him, about the story here.

Still grinning, he gathered Al's parcel under his arm, and moved aside so the next customer could reach the counter. "Thanks for your help, Miss Fujioka. See you around sometime."

"Have a splendid afternoon," offered Tamaki. "Please do come back and see us again soon!"  
"Thanks," Arai waved, heading for the door and the bright crisp day outside.

At least half the folks in this town were nuts, he thought to himself, but by and large, it was a surprisingly nice, harmless kind of nuts.  
Out on the pavement, he looked up at the sunny blue sky, feeling cheerful for no real reason. Out of all the places he'd been since leaving home, this town seemed by far the friendliest. And if he'd ever want to live anywhere besides the quiet home in the countryside he'd left behind, and still missed so much sometimes, maybe it would be a place like this.

For the first time ever, Arai realized he wasn't more eager than anything to move on, finish out the trip to find his uncle. For the first time, he wasn't so positive that wherever his uncle had taken up, was necessarily a better place than Arai was at now.

It was a confusing notion, to be sure. It gave him an odd feeling, like seeing Ed ruffling Roy's hair had done, earlier. It wasn't that he objected to the gesture, exactly. It was just....well, it made him wonder.

He'd never really thought about what the end of their journey might entail. All he knew was that they had a long way to go, and they'd been going for months of hard times already. And the only way to get through hard times, was to keep your head down, and not think too much about how distant the end of the road really was.

As he walked by the park again, unable to help slowing down for another hungry peek at all those trees and the vivid green grass, he tried out a strange new idea, just for a second.

What if this _was_ the end of the road? What if they stayed awhile, settled in, and just....didn't go any further?


	18. Chapter 18

The walk back didn't take long, and before he was really ready to go back inside, Arai found himself at the door to the apothecary. With one last wistful glance at the street behind him, he wrapped his hand around the ornate handle and went inside.

No one was at the counter, but in the laboratory room Al was perched atop a stool, telephone pressed to his ear as he nodded thoughtfully. Arai set the parcel on the counter, receiving a grateful smile in return from Al, who suddenly stopped nodding and said, "Of course not, we'll be happy to."

A customer, Arai thought, and slipped back into the makeshift bedroom to check on Roy.

He found his friend asleep, curled on his side in a nest of blankets. Roy's breathing was smooth and shallow, regular as the tide, and Arai let loose a quiet sigh of relief. Roy was getting better, no doubt about it; the color was coming back into his cheeks, the faint bruising around his eyes disappearing. One more solid night's sleep, and he'd probably be good as new, or nearly so.

In an awkward ball near the foot of the bed, Ed slept also. One hand still marked the book he'd been reading, as though he'd just slumped over to rest for a minute before picking up his study. He, too, was looking much improved from when they'd arrived, though it was strange to watch someone with as much force and intensity as Ed at rest. Even asleep, he seemed to vibrate with restless energy.

He heard his name called softly at his back, and turned to meet Al at the doorway. The tawny-haired chemist had a gentle, easy expression on his face, glancing past Arai to cast a fond gaze on the two sleepers. "Finally got him to rest, huh? That's a miracle."

The pleased warmth that had been surrounding him started to dissipate at the remark. "Was Roy very difficult?" he asked. "Geez, I'm sorry, he's been doing so much better about-"

"Roy was fine," Al cut in to reassure him. "He hummed a bit, then went right off to sleep. No, I meant Ed. You just about have to sneak him a tranquilizer just to get him to slow down even a little bit. I'm glad to see him resting."

"Oh." Arai looked back, at the smaller figure on the bed. "He's been through a lot, hasn't he?"

The look Al gave him was curiously sharp, and for a moment Arai wondered if he'd said the wrong thing. But the corner of his mouth lifted up in a wry smile, and Al just shook his head. "Yeah, he really has. Not that he'll admit it to anyone. Having Roy around has helped him out tremendously. Without someone to take care of, he would've been out in the lab, hobbling around getting pissed off at his limitations, irritating everyone with his foul mood, and holding up his own recovery." Another shake of the head. "He pushes himself too hard."

It seemed to be an old complaint, spoken offhandedly, without any real irritation and only a little regret. It was a familiar enough attitude to Arai- the lament of someone resigned to a situation that was patently unfair. Though how smart people like the Elrics could get stuck in anything like that refused to make any sense in Arai's mind.

Before he had time to really wonder at that though, Al smiled as though the shadow had never passed over him. "Want to help me make some lunch for them? No doubt they're going to be hungry whenever they wake up."

"Sure," Arai agreed, and followed the other man back out to the workspace.

As it turned out, the others slept clear through lunchtime, so he and Al ate alone. Afterwards, Arai helped Al sort receipts and stock bandages and other sundries in the front of the store, and over the course of the afternoon he come to the conclusion that Al was indeed a genius. Arai had thought that Momo had a tricky job, keeping the prices and availability of the bakery items in his head, but Al's job was so much more complicated, and yet he handled it with apparent ease. Phone orders, working the counter, making a whole variety of medicines that he carefully explained to Arai as he put them together... it was enough to make Arai's head spin, but Al didn't even slow down. He just kept at it, somehow keeping track of the complicated formulas he worked on, who was coming at what time to pick up their medicine, all while keeping up a conversation that was absolutely pleasant, if slightly disjointed at times.

He even seemed to have known how long Ed and Roy would rest- he'd just started pulling out plates for their late meal right before Ed's groggy complaints began filtering out from the side room. A few minutes later Ed himself appeared in the doorway, using Roy as a crutch as they both hobbled into the lab. "Fuck, Al," he moaned. "I'm starving, why'd you let me sleep all damn day? Too much shit to do..."

"You needed the rest, brother," Al told him smoothly, pushing aside some papers to make room on the counter and motioning for Arai to bring stools over. "You can't heal without rest, and you've been working yourself very hard the past couple days. In fact," he frowned, "I'm not sure you really need to be moving around yet. Or Roy, for that matter."

"I'm feeling better!" Ed insisted, Roy echoing 'better!' in a happy tone that lifted Arai's spirits right up through the roof. "Besides, if I don't move around my leg's gonna lock up, and you know it's a bitch getting it started again." He dropped unsteadily onto a stool, Roy hovering over him anxiously as though worried he'd tilt off, and Ed waved him to his own seat. "The action is already pretty rough, I'd hate to see what it'd be like if I sat around for another day. Oh, damn, that smells good! Thanks, Al."

The younger Elric just rolled his eyes as his brother dove into the stew placed in front of him, and Roy hummed his appreciation before following suit. Watching them, it struck Arai just how much better Roy really was, and with a stab of guilt he realized that soon they'd have to return to the bakery, leaving yet another debt behind them.

He swallowed, hard. Even counting their combined salaries, there was no question that he and Roy could afford what they'd been given here, not even if they saved for months. And so far neither Ed nor Al had made any mention of the cost, but everything had a cost, he'd learned that ages ago. These people who'd been so kind to them both... he couldn't leave them without something for their trouble, no matter how small an offering. "Um... about what we owe you..."

Ed waved one hand, the other still occupied with scooping stew into his mouth. ""F'get it," he mumbled around his spoon. "S'nothin'."

"No. It isn't. Roy might've... if you hadn't..." He took a breath. "Please, I'd like to come over here, do odd jobs, mending, after we get off work at the bakery. It isn't much, but I don't mind the work and I want to help out after all you've done... Please let me do this."

Ed sat up, actually looking affronted. "An' when the hell're you gonna rest, kid? Think I don't know the hours Fuji works you? No. Hell no, you'll just run yourself down and get sick again, get Roy sick again. You need to get your asses home after work, get some sleep."

Arai felt his throat tighten, not so much at Ed's refusal as the reminder that once again, he and Roy had no place to stay. He'd told Mr. Morinozuka about the roof, seen the look on the man's face, and there was no way in hell he could disappoint the man by continuing. But what else could they do? Ignoring the prickle burning behind his eyelids, Arai bit down on his lower lip and stared at the floor. "Please. I need to do this. Please."

"No, didn't you hear me? For fuck's sake-"

"Brother," Al cut in, his mild voice stopping Ed's rant dead in its tracks. "I think there's a way to resolve this that's good for everyone." He turned to Arai, a reassuring smile on his face that instantly made him feel about ten centimeters tall. Why did everyone persist in being so nice to them, like they'd done something to deserve it?

"While you were out," Al continued, keeping his eyes locked on Arai's, "Mr. Morinozuka called."

Oh no. Arai's stomach dropped clear down to his feet, a sickly plummet that nearly brought the tears to the surface. He'd told Mr. Morinozuka, and he'd told Al, and now everyone was going to know that the two folks they'd mistaken for hard workers were just common vagrants, untrustworthy, they were going to be turned out...

Worst was the aching sense that he'd lost a friend, because how could Mr. Morinozuka want to be associated with someone who lived on rooftops and couldn't even take care of himself?

"He told me that the where place you and Roy were staying is responsible for making him sick, and he's going to see that it's condemned." The younger Elric's expression turned apologetic. "So I'm sorry, but you don't really have a place to return to. He asked if it were possible for you two to stay with us, until you can find a new home."

For a moment, Arai couldn't puzzle out what Al was telling him. Condemned? But that was the bakery, and Mr. Morinozuka couldn't possibly have the bakery condemned just because he and Roy had slept on its roof, that wasn't fair, he wouldn't! Not to Fuji, Momo... but then it hit him. Mr. Morinozuka didn't tell. Mr. Morinozuka was trying to look out for them, and keep them in a safer place than the alleys or an abandoned building. Dazed, he blinked rapidly and said, very softly, "But we couldn't..."

Al was smiling again. "He insisted. We owe the Professor a whole lot, more than we could repay him, but he swore that boarding you two would be more than enough for him to call the debt square." That kind face dimpled, and Arai marveled at Al's endless optimism. "It isn't enough, we'll still do everything we can for him, but if it pleases him, that's good enough for us. So please, stay here. If it makes you feel better, you can help out with some of the chores, but don't feel obligated. You and Roy haven't inconvenienced us one whit, and besides, we're all friends. Right?"

Another friend. Arai couldn't remember when he'd had anyone other than Roy willing to call him a pal, but since arriving in this town- this crazy, perplexing town- he'd made more friends than he could fathom. And he hadn't done a thing to deserve any of them. Struck nearly dumb with gratitude, Arai could only nod back in response to Al's question, completely overwhelmed with the turn of luck.

Friends. A decent place to stay. Lately, he and Roy were rich beyond measure, and he hadn't the first idea how to account for any of it. Was this how normal people lived? How did they cope with their fortune?

**Author's Note:**

> Archival Note:  
> The Adventures universe constitutes a free-form character study collaboration between evil_whimsey and PandoraCulpa, spanning almost 10 years at the date of this posting. It was initially collected into Facebook notes and Dreamwidth posts, where it became hopelessly unwieldy. 
> 
> Here is the summary from the inaugural post of this first chapter, on Dreamwidth:  
> " _There are so many things I love about this story. One is that we wrote the first 96 pages of it in back-and-forth emails, and I wrote the bulk of my entries on my Crackberry. Which is a slightly better-organized equivalent of writing a novel on bar napkins. It's remarkably freeing to work that way, and something I'd heartily recommend to anyone who feels like they're stuck with blank-page-itis but still really wants to write something. It's also amazing therapy for when you're visiting relatives and going slowly insane."_ (whimsey, October 2010)


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